distuff - Tumblr blog

distuff · 24 days ago

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Aaah ! Authorshiiii!! I hope you had fun writin' this, that's the important bits after all~ And don't think u wrote too much unless ya felt like u forced it that is << But from whot I've read you were indulgin' there by the end khuhuhu~

A potential continuation of 'Apology'

Helloo, this is my first time writing on Tumblr, so I might make some mistakes while writing this. This is a continuation of the story ‘Apology’ by @distuff, written with their permission. Please read the original first!

A/N: I think I overwrote it...does this make sense? I hope it is. I don't think this matches distuff's version of Baby Saja though T^T

Note: Not Proofread

____________________________________________________

"... Apologize, and you don’t lose face.”

Silence followed.

It was a simple statement. But it was one that pulled every thread together with surgical precision.

Baby blinked.

Romance let out a low, impressed whistle. “Ah. So cold. So clean. Almost romantic in a devastating way,” he said with a smile that was half-swoon, half-smirk.

Even Abby, who had by now taken to chewing on his own sleeve in boredom, snapped his head back toward Mystery with renewed interest. “Wait. Waitwaitwait. Did you just say, paint her as the villain?”

“I said,” Mystery clarified calmly, “what the company would choose to do. If pushed.”

Baby crossed his arms slowly, exhaling through his nose. There was something oddly reassuring in how detached Mystery was. Not because he didn’t care, but because he knew exactly what to care about. He always had.

It was the logic Baby needed.

And, frustratingly, it was also the logic that made Baby rethink everything he’d just threatened to do five minutes ago.

Kill you? Sure. Easy. But now? Now it felt like setting fire to a field you could’ve sold for profit instead.

“…So,” Baby muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I shouldn’t kill her.”

“No,” Mystery said flatly. “Not unless you’re prepared to deal with paperwork.”

Romance shuddered. “Ugh. Paperwork.”

Abby gagged. “Disgusting.”

Baby groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Fine. I get it. So... the apology thing... really the only option?”

Mystery didn’t answer immediately. He stepped forward, arms still at his sides, movements unhurried. When he spoke again, it was quieter, lower, but oddly firm.

“You don’t have to mean it,” he said simply. “You only have to say it.”

That hit.

Not because Baby hadn’t already considered it, but because hearing it from Mystery made it feel less like losing, and more like... strategy.

Romance seemed pleased, nodding along like he’d suggested the exact same thing earlier, which—technically—he had.

Abby, meanwhile, leaned back on his hands, eyes wide in mock admiration. “Wow. He is the smart one.”

Baby didn’t respond.

His fingers twitched, just slightly. Then stilled.

“…Alright,” he said at last. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

He glanced up at them all. “I’ll apologise.”

There was a moment of stillness.

Romance, bless his dramatic soul, placed a hand over his chest and whispered, “He said it. Our little monster’s growing up.”

Mystery turned without a word and walked toward the door.

But just before he opened it again, he paused, half-turning toward Baby with that ever-neutral expression.

“One more thing,” he said.

They all looked up.

“If you’re going to lie to a human... at least make it convincing.”

And with that—door opened—Mystery was gone.

Baby stood there a moment, lips pursed.

Romance clapped his hands together cheerfully. “Well! You heard the old man. Time to swallow your pride and pretend you care!”

Abby cackled.

Baby sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, expression sour. “…You two better hide before I change my mind.”

But there was no venom in his voice. Not this time.

Because now, he had a new mission.

One simple apology.

Should be easy.

…Right?

____________________________________________________

Wrong.

Apologizing is not easy when said human is avoiding him.

You wouldn't even give him a few seconds before walking away from him.

Somehow it's...frusturating(?)

He isn’t used to being ignored. Feared? Sure. Respected? Definitely. But outright dismissed?

That’s new.

And worse — it stings.

Which is also new. And deeply annoying.

Baby watches you disappear around the corner, again, your pace calm and stubborn like you’ve trained specifically to walk away from him.

“I’m not gonna bite you, you know!” he calls after you.

No answer.

He grits his teeth. “Not unless you ask nicely!”

Still nothing.

He drags a hand down his face. Fantastic. She’s immune to both sarcasm and threats. What’s next, kindness?

God forbid.

He turns the other way. Paces. Regroups. Tells himself this doesn’t matter.

It does.

So, the next day, he tries again.

You’re at the vending machine when he approaches — cautiously, as if you might vanish into thin air the second he breathes too loud.

You spot him from the corner of your eye. Your shoulders stiffen. You sigh. Loudly.

“Listen,” he blurts, before you can walk away again. “I... I was a jerk.”

A pause.

You turn, slowly, looking unimpressed. “Was?”

He exhales through his nose. “Fine. Am. I am a jerk.”

You cross your arms. “And?”

God, this is exhausting.

Baby clenches his fists, forces the words out. “I’m trying to say sorry. Okay? Like. For real.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why now?”

He falters.

It’s a fair question.

“…Because someone I hate told me it was a good idea,” he mutters. Then, quieter: “And because you didn’t deserve what I said.”

Silence.

For a moment, you just look at him.

Then you pick your drink out of the machine, step around him without a word—

And murmur, as you pass:

“Try harder tomorrow.”

He blinks.

And despite himself, a small, incredulous grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

So that’s how it’s gonna be.

Challenge accepted.

____________________________________________________

The next day, you're leaning by Derpy's side on the couch when Baby appears out of thin air with bags of spicy chips and soda cans in his arms.

"Do you want to watch a movie?... I bought those chips you humans like so much," he grumbled as he said this, eyes flicking anywhere but your face.

Derpy perks up immediately, tail thumping once against the cushions in approval.

You stare at Baby for a beat, one brow raised. “You don’t even like movies.”

“I like screaming,” he mutters. “And blood. And watching people make terrible decisions under pressure.”

You blink. “...You mean horror?”

“Exactly,” he says, already reaching for the remote. “Got three lined up. All rated ‘you’re going to regret this.’”

You sigh, but you scoot over just enough to make room. “If you pick something with clowns, I’m leaving.”

“No promises.”

He drops onto the couch beside you like a cat who owns the place, plops the chips between you, and pretends like this whole thing isn’t a big deal.

It kind of is.

He doesn’t look at you. But he does sit a little closer than necessary.

The first movie starts. Something loud, dark, and already full of doomed teenagers.

You eat the chips. He cracks open a soda.

And about halfway through, when the music swells and the creepy kid on-screen starts crawling backward up a wall, Baby casually shifts closer.

Not too close.

Just enough that your arms brush.

Neither of you mention it.

At one of the jumpscares, you flinch while hugging Baby's arm, hiding your face on his arm.

Baby grins, teeth sharp in the flickering glow of the screen.

"Scared?" You hear him mocking

"No! I-I was just surprised..." you say, still hiding your face.

At the end of the movie, you still hide your face and probably will get nightmares from the gorey scenes.

“Pfft, why do you even watch this stuff if you know you can’t handle gore?” he asks, grinning like a menace. “Is it ‘cause of that thing humans have? Pride?”

You’re still clinging to his arm, half-buried against his sleeve, refusing to look at the screen even though the movie's over. The credits are rolling, but your brain’s still stuck on that scene — the one with the eyeballs.

You grumble into his jacket. “I— I just wanted to prove I’m not… one of those things you call me. You know. Fragile. Useless. A walking liability.”

He doesn’t say anything to that.

So you keep going, voice quieter now.

“And… this is one of the first times you asked me to do something with you. Just because. Just to make things right.”

Your fingers tighten slightly on the fabric of his sleeve.

“Usually, you wouldn’t cared,” you add, almost a whisper.

There’s a long pause.

You expect him to brush it off. Laugh. Tease you again. Maybe tell you you’re imagining things or that he just wanted the couch space.

Instead—

Baby shifts beside you.

Not away. Not closer. Just… enough that his shoulder fits more snugly against yours.

“Yeah, well…” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “You wouldn’t talk to me. Had to get creative.”

You peek up at him, but he’s still staring straight ahead at the screen, as if the credits are fascinating.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he says suddenly. “The talking. The apologizing. The… you-being-mad-at-me part.”

You snort, just a little. “Yeah. I noticed.”

He gives you a side-eye. “Don’t push it.”

Silence falls again, but it’s softer this time. Less awkward.

After a moment, he reaches toward the table, grabs another can of soda, pops it open, and offers it to you without looking.

“Second movie’s shorter,” he says casually. “Less gore. More ghosts. You’ll probably still scream, though.”

You take the soda. Your fingers brush his.

And maybe it’s the horror hangover, or the comfort of Derpy snoring at your feet, or the fact that Baby’s not pushing you away — but for once, you don’t let go of his arm.

“…Thanks,” you say.

He doesn’t answer.

But he doesn’t pull away either.

By the time the third movie ends, the room is dim, quiet, and littered with empty chip bags and soda cans. Derpy is passed out upside down, legs in the air, mouth open like he’d watched the horrors too.

You’re curled up on the couch, eyes bleary, head resting lightly against Baby’s shoulder.

“I think I’ve reached my limit,” you mumble, blinking slowly. “Any more jump scares and I’m filing a complaint with HR.”

“There is no HR,” Baby says.

“Then I’m filing a complaint with God.”

He snorts.

You don’t move, and neither does he. The silence stretches, comfortable now, filled with the soft buzz of the TV and Derpy’s gentle snoring.

“…You didn’t scream during the last one,” he says after a beat.

You hum, half-asleep. “I was too tired to be scared.”

He glances down at you.

“You were also holding onto me the whole time.”

You don’t answer.

“…Not that I mind,” he adds quickly, like the words taste weird in his mouth. “Or whatever.”

You peek up at him, eyes half-lidded. “Was that a compliment?”

“No,” he says too fast. “That was a statement. Observation. Completely neutral.”

“Mhm. Sure.”

You close your eyes again, still resting on his arm. “Neutral sounds a lot like sweet coming from you.”

Baby groans, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re half-dead from fear.”

Your eyes fly open. “Did you just call me cute?”

He freezes. “No.”

“You did!”

“Shut up, you’re hallucinating.”

“I am very awake now, thank you.”

He grumbles something under his breath, face turning slightly pink at the ears.

You grin and nudge your head gently against his shoulder.

“...Thanks for staying,” you say softly. “Even if it was all blood and ghosts and- whatever that third movie was supposed to be.”

Baby is quiet for a long moment.

Then, lowly, almost shy: “I didn’t really care about the movies.”

Your breath catches.

And in the quiet that follows, you feel his arm shift — not away, but around your shoulder this time. Clumsy. Warm. Protective in that totally-not-protective way he does.

“Next time,” he says, “you pick the movie.”

You smile into his jacket.

And for once, the silence between you says everything that needs to be said.

The credits of the last movie have long since faded, and the TV screen has dimmed into that quiet blue glow that only happens when no one bothers turning it off.

You’re fast asleep, curled into Baby’s side, your cheek resting comfortably against his chest. His arm is still around you, hand limp but resting like it never meant to move. He’s out too — mouth slightly open, brow relaxed in a way that never happens when he’s awake.

Derpy is still on the floor, now snoring like a small chainsaw.

Everything is calm. Peaceful.

Until-

Click.

A camera shutter breaks the silence.

Romance stands just inside the doorway, grinning like he’s just witnessed a miracle.

“Oh my god,” he whispers dramatically, holding up his phone. “They’re cuddling.”

Abby pokes his head in behind him. “No way. Baby doesn't cuddle. Baby bites.”

“Not tonight,” Romance says, eyes sparkling with glee. “Tonight, our terrifying murder goblin has been domesticated.”

He snaps another photo. And another. Full paparazzi mode.

Derpy lifts his head, blinks once, then went back to sleep.

“Should we wake them?” Abby asks, clearly itching to mess with them.

Romance holds up a hand. “No. This—this must be preserved. Archived. Revered.”

He zooms in on Baby’s face, which is peacefully squished against your hair.

“Blackmail material?” Abby suggests.

“Oh, absolutely.”

They tiptoe back out the door, giggling like schoolkids, and the room falls quiet again.

You and Baby stay exactly as you are — tangled in each other’s warmth, completely unaware.

____________________________________________________

The next morning arrives quietly.

The apartment smells like toast, eggs, and Jinu’s weird obsession with putting cinnamon in everything. You wake to the soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen and Derpy nudging your arm with his nose, as if to say get up, lazy human, it’s breakfast time.

You blink groggily, stretching a little — and only then realize you’re still half-draped across Baby’s chest.

He hasn’t moved yet.

Still asleep, one arm loosely curled around your waist, face smushed into the top of your head.

It would be cute, if not for the fact that the moment he stirs, his eyes open halfway—and immediately squint with suspicion.

“…Why does it smell like sugar and shame?”

You snort. “Good morning to you too.”

He groans and shifts, rubbing at his face. “Ugh. I feel like I got run over by a haunted semi-truck.”

“You fell asleep during the third movie.”

“Lies. I was just… meditating.”

“You were drooling.”

Before he can grumble a comeback, his phone buzzes loudly on the coffee table.

One buzz. Then another. Then five more in rapid fire.

Baby frowns, reaches over, and unlocks it.

The moment he opens the group chat, his entire body goes rigid.

Because there it is.

A full-resolution photo of him dead asleep on the couch. Holding you. Arms wrapped around you like you were the last warm thing on Earth.

And underneath the photo:

Romance: Our little monster has a heart after all 🥺🖤

Abby: is this a glitch in the matrix or character development?

Jinu: serving pancakes to celebrate this historic moment. bring your feelings & your forks.

Mystery: 👍

Baby stares at the screen, horrified.

"...They know."

You peek at the phone over his shoulder.

“Oh. Oh no.”

He bolts upright. “They all know.”

From the kitchen, Jinu calls, teasing, “Good morning, snugglebug! Hope you like your eggs over easy!”

Romance appears a second later, grinning ear to ear, waving his phone like it’s a trophy.

“Smile for the sequel?”

Baby lunges.

Romance shrieks and sprints down the hallway, laughing.

You stay on the couch, burying your red face into a pillow, while Derpy wags his tail excitedly like this is the best morning ever.

Baby storms back into the room a minute later, hair messy, breathing hard, and very much still flustered.

He grumbles something under his breath, grabs a piece of toast off Jinu’s plate, and drops dramatically beside you again.

“…They’re never gonna let this go.”

You hand him his soda from last night. “Nope.”

He glares at it. Then at you.

Then sighs and takes a sip. “…Worth it though.”

You glance at him.

He doesn’t meet your eyes. But his ears are a little pink.

And he’s smiling. Just barely.

But you see it.

____________________________________________________

At noon, It's obvious staying inside will just make the teasing escalate worse.

“I’m leaving,” Baby muttered, already puttin on his beanie.

You stood. “Where?”

“Anywhere that doesn’t have Romance in it.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

He paused, eyeing you sideways. “...You’re not gonna bring it up?”

You shrugged. “Only if you do.”

He hesitated. Then jerked his head toward the door. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The sun outside was warm but breezy, and the streets were calm — just enough people to feel alive, but not enough to overwhelm. You walked in silence at first, side by side, passing cafes and flower stalls, a couple of aunties chatting by a fruit vendor.

Eventually, Baby stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket.

“Still mad about the photo?” you asked casually.

He scoffed. “Mad? No. Just... annoyed.”

“Because we looked cute?”

His ears turned red. “No. Because now Abby’s threatening to sell keychains.”

You laughed. “Okay, yeah. That’s valid.”

____________________________________________________

After a solid hour of aimless wandering and feeding the stray cats at the park, you passed a corner bookstore with a sign out front that read: “CURSED BOOKS, DISCOUNTED REGRETS.”

Baby stopped.

You followed his gaze. “Should we go in?”

He blinked. “What kind of bookstore advertises regrets?”

“The good kind.”

Inside, it smelled like mothballs and mystery. The shelves leaned at precarious angles. Dust shimmered in the sunbeams like tiny ghosts.

Baby vanished almost immediately into the "Cursed Lore & Local Myths" section.

You browsed the romance aisle instead, marveling at titles like “Mated to the Goblin King’s Accountant” and “Fifty Shades of Grave Robbing.”

Eventually, you reconvened at the counter.

“I bet yours is unhinged,” you challenged.

Baby revealed his find with a smirk: “Cursed Forests You Shouldn’t Visit Unless You’re Dumb or Depressed.”

“...You win,” you sighed.

He looked far too pleased with himself as you paid for his book chips.

____________________________________________________

With the sun climbing higher and your feet beginning to ache, you spotted an arcade across the street, neon lights flashing through the glass like a beacon of chaos.

“Race you,” you said.

“You’ll lose,” Baby replied — but you were already gone.

Inside, the air buzzed with synthetic music and the whirr of game machines.

Baby dominated air hockey.

You crushed him in DDR.

Then came the claw machine.

You pointed at a plush dumpling with angry eyebrows. “That’s literally you.”

Baby narrowed his eyes. “You’re just mad I beat your high score.”

He proceeded to fail the claw machine five times.

But on the sixth try, he got it.

He shoved the dumpling into your hands, ears pink. “Keep this before I change my mind.”

You hugged it, grinning. “Thanks. It’ll guard me from the clown ghosts tonight.”

____________________________________________________

The two of you sprawled across a shaded bench with slushies, watching the clouds shift lazily overhead.

“I forgot what doing nothing felt like,” Baby murmured.

“It’s nice,” you replied. “You should do it more.”

“I only do things with purpose.”

“Liar. You’ve wasted three dollars on a dumpling plush just to prove a point.”

He snorted. “...Okay, that’s fair.”

____________________________________________________

As the sun set and the moon rose, the night market unfolded like a fever dream, lanterns swinging overhead, sizzling smoke curling through the air, and the sound of a thousand hungry footsteps crunching against the pavement.

You were already overwhelmed by the heat and noise. Baby, on the other hand, looked like a kid in a candy store. A very spicy candy store.

“Smell that?” he grinned, tugging you toward the first row of food stalls.

“Yeah,” you said, coughing. “My lungs are begging for mercy.”

“That’s the scent of happiness.”

You squinted at the flaming red dish he pointed at. “That’s the scent of chemical warfare.”

Baby snorted and ordered without hesitation. “One buldak skewer. Extra sauce.”

The vendor raised an eyebrow. “You sure, son?”

“Positive.”

You watched, horrified but impressed, as Baby took one bite-no blinking, no sweating-just a satisfied nod like he was tasting a good wine.

He glanced at you. “Wanna try?”

“I like being alive, thanks.”

_______________________________________

You shuffled behind him as he weaved effortlessly through the crowd, bouncing from one dangerously red stall to the next �� fire noodles, pepper tempura, spicy rice cakes bubbling in molten sauce. The man was on a mission.

Meanwhile, you were already on your second cup of iced watermelon juice, trying to cool down from watching him eat.

“I think my tongue is numb by association,” you muttered.

Baby just shrugged and handed you something skewered and fried. “Here. This one’s mild.”

You eyed it suspiciously. “You have no concept of mild.”

“Trust me.”

You didn’t.

But you bit it anyway.

Your soul left your body instantly.

You gasped. “You liar!”

Baby looked genuinely confused. “Really? That one’s like, a five out of ten. Tops.”

“On what scale? Satan’s?!”

He laughed — bright and delighted — then pulled out a banana milk from a nearby fridge like he knew this would happen.

He popped the cap and offered it to you without saying anything.

You drank.

He patted your back like a proud, mildly evil boyfriend.

_______________________________________

A few stalls later, you watched him square up at a booth titled: “HELL CHALLENGE — CHUG THREE FLAMES. WIN HONOR.”

“Don’t,” you begged, grabbing his sleeve.

Baby just smirked. “Too late.”

You watched in horror (and... admiration?) as he tilted the first bottle back, then the second, and finally the third — each one a progressively more absurd shade of red.

The small crowd around you started to cheer. One old woman shouted, “That boy’s not human!”

Baby wiped his mouth with his sleeve and bowed slightly.

“Okay,” you said, still blinking. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You stared at him.

He blinked innocently. “...And the drink coupon.”

He handed it to you like a prize. You looked down. It was for a single mango smoothie.

“You chugged liquid death for this?”

“You looked like you needed it.”

You took the drink and shook your head, smiling. “Spicy demon.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Later, you sat together on a curb, both of you surrounded by plastic containers and crumpled napkins. Baby was still nibbling on a grilled chili-stuffed squid, perfectly content. You were working through a skewer of fruit dusted in chili powder , which, shockingly, wasn’t trying to kill you.

“I think I understand you now,” you said between bites.

He glanced over, amused. “Yeah?”

“You’re not into spice because it tastes good. You’re into it because it’s chaos.”

He grinned. “Exactly.”

“And you like chaos.”

He nudged your knee. “I like controlled chaos. With company.”

You raised a brow. “So this is like a spice date?”

He shrugged, still chewing. “Pretty much.”

You leaned into him slightly, watching the lanterns sway above the crowd.

Somewhere nearby, someone dropped a plate and cursed loudly. Music from a busker’s guitar floated past. The smell of burnt sugar and spice clung to your jacket.

You weren’t sure if it was the chili or Baby’s stupid smile, but your face was hot again.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #request #ficrequest #baby kpdh #baby saja #saja boys x reader #baby saja x reader

33 notes · View notes

distuff · 25 days ago

Note

Hi! I love your writing and characterization of the saja boys, and I have a request! I am an absolute sucker for saja boys x manager reader and I’ve had this prompt circling my brain for the past few days. The saja boys are invited to a party, maybe a publicity stunt that huntr/x is putting on or something. Anyway, manager tags along to keep the boys in check. The boys get annoying and manager goes to get a drink and cool off, but ends up meeting someone who slips something into their drink. Just as they are about to leave with this stranger, the boys swoop in to save them and take them home and absolutely obliterate the person who dares to touch their manager. (Bonus points if huntr/x panics when they see the saja boys carrying some random human away, assuming the boys are getting really bold with their soul stealing.)

Answer: Thank you readershi!! I'm glad to know you've enjoyed the stories so far~ Well ain't this a detailed one- safes mhe a lot of time honestly in terms of plot building lol so arigatou~ I hope you enjoy yourself and that the stories delivered ! I had fun writing and exploring this scenario too ngl, made me img the poor reader as a dog owner of 5 diff dog breeds KHAHAHAHA

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. . .Note. I would like to thank this readershi for givin' mhe the idea of what Mystery can potentially watch which was used in this story!

⌯⌲ The ART bellow is the concept art taken from THIS site and made by THIS lovely artist

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📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boyz: Spiked Drink

Featuring: Mystery S., Jinu S., Romance S., Abby S., Baby S. Reader: Neutral (Manager)

CONTEXT... - As their manager, it's your job to look after them. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. Dealing with them had thickened your skin, prolonged your patience, and shortened your lifespan. Soo... No one can really blame you when your patience finally snaps at one of the galas after all you've been through, making you find comfort at the bar. However, as your luck would have it, you seemed to have attracted the attention of someone who was not one of your boyz, who clearly wasn't there just to "get to know you". What do you think the SAJA will do? Swoop in and save you? Or turn away and keep to themselves? Who knows~ After all you weren't the only one having to power through the night either.

─────────✎

▻ Mystery SAJA

🐶 It was very bold of you, to assume he’d even notice, let alone “swoop in and save you,”. First, you dragged him with the help of the others, away from the newest episode of How It’s Made.

🐶 He couldn’t even use his powers to stop you. Deaths involving a group as big as theirs actually affected the industry. The fandom, the press, and the company would expect an emotional response from all of them. Yes. They do have experience with this kind of thing. No. Mystery wasn’t curious enough about how humans may react to death to go through something like that ever again.

🐶 Then you forced him into the itchiest suit imaginable - something shoved in the back of his closet, even he wasn't ever was there. On top of that, you forced him to sit through a chemical torture that made his skin itch and burn.

🐶 And as if that weren’t enough, you assaulted his nose with what he could only assume was an entire bottle of rat poison that was apparently used to hold the hair in - followed by a "glitter spray", so he'd "pop!" as you put it cheerfully. Oh, Mystery would pop all right. Pop something of yours, if you didn’t give him a long moment to calm down. The poor makeup artist had trembling hands, no doubt aware of his forcefully restrained demonic aura that was slipping under Mystery's control.

🐶 And once they all arrived, you expected him to “socialise” ?! He didn’t even let you finish explaining why before he left and found the nearest corner to disappear into.

🐶 The rest of the night only added to the list of problems. Loud music blasted in warped rhythms, clashing with shrill laughter, the wet chew of overcooked food, slurping, swallowing, teeth scraping against forks. The sounds clawed at his brain, each one a sharp nail tapping the raw edges of his nerves. He was already imagining the recovery: a locked bathroom, scalding hot water in their bathtub and him submerged in it for hours.

🐶 So no. Mystery was the last demon in the room who’d step in to save you from your own foolish decisions.

━━━━━━━━

From what Mystery could remember, once he was on the surface—beyond the honmoon barrier, or rather, within the space the huntresses had formed through soul-binding—tracing the waves wasn’t all that difficult.

Thanks to the humans' attachment to the huntresses, the souls lit up in glaring blue. All he had to do was follow those lines to their source: the human they belonged to.

He never thought much about it. Until he did.

Mystery had never expected the ridiculous mission Jinu roped them into would spiral into this—something that clawed deep into what he'd always considered an annoying, if fascinating, phenomenon. Even Gwi-ma, lounging in the back of his mind, flared with amusement and interest when he first saw it with them for the first time. Neither of them had known this was even possible.

Apparently, once a human became attached to one of them, the wave shifted. It moved from blazing blue to vibrant purple—an in-between hue that suggested uncertainty, a tug-of-war in preference—before settling into a dazzling crimson.

Such wave was always a teat to watch as it would rip through the honmoon like a living whip, flailing in all directions, tasting a freedom it had forgotten it could possess. At the same time, it carved open a small opening for more demons to crawl through without hurting themselves—and eventually, it would open wide enough for Gwi-ma to tear his way out as well.

But with the wildness of crimson waves, the hysterical confusion of the purples, and the steady hum of blues, Mystery quickly realised one thing: it was also a damn headache.

Even in an open space, it was hard for him to identify whose wave was whose - so imagine how much harder it became in an enclosed space.

Like right now.

Mystery drew in a deep breath, letting it ease through him as he settled into the room’s thick air. He stood in the shadowed corner, arms crossed, tucked away where the light didn’t reach - where no one would notice him unless they were actively looking.

He focused, bit by bit, on separating the tangled waves around him. It was more to soothe his own growing discomfort than anything else. But midway through, he noticed something useful... They were in the company of the three huntresses whose waves he had familiarised himself with had already spiked in alertness.

He blinked. Already? A bit surprising that the new generation was already onto them - undoubtedly monitoring their behaviour too.

How thrilling... The thought slinked through his mind, and the tip of his tusk itched, his instincts twitching at the silent challenge radiating from the huntresses.

Mystery didn’t crave violence, but a demon of his rank needed a proper hunt once in a while. It was how they released old energy and made room for new one.

And since he hadn’t had a proper chance to hunt - not with Jinu and you dragging him around to bolster SAJA’s name - a confrontation with a huntress sounded like the perfect excuse to let off steam.

It was obvious which one had her attention on them. The black-haired one had locked onto him and Jinu - Jinu being the closest to him at the moment - while the other two seemed focused on his brothers.

Out of the lot, only Abby and Baby seemed fully aware they were being watched. Both were already toying with the attention, provoking reactions in their usual ridiculous fashion.

The rest didn’t seem concerned. Whether that was ignorance or overconfidence, Mystery didn't cared enough to investigate further.

What he was sure of, once he managed to clear out the mess of overlapping waves, was that you were not appreciating Abby’s antics. You didn’t take his flexing and smug posturing for the crowd of swooning humans as him trying to riled up the pink-haired huntress as you couldn't sense the swirling aura stirring towards the huntress. Instead, you took it as him deliberately provoking you.

And Baby? He wasn’t helping. He was fake-laughing with another idol group, comparing nail polish, and still managing to throw a subtle smug glances toward the purple-haired huntress. His aura whipped toward her like a flicked ribbon—taunting her to do something knowing full well she couldn't.

But once again, you had no way of know that. So instead you thought he was rebelling against you.

Mystery wasn’t even remotely surprised when you finally snapped. He felt it the moment your frustration boiled over, your presence shifting sharply as you veered toward the mini bar without a word.

He didn’t react when he felt the sharp twist in the air that told him you went for some liquor. His nose twitched as the scent hit—bitter alcohol layered with sugary cocktails, a hint of fruit syrup, and something fizzy that sparkled like that fancy wine he caught sights of.

It clung to the air now, coating your wave with the same edge you'd tried to swallow down.

He didn’t even twitch when he sensed the faint purple wave approaching you, curling its way around your deep crimson like smoke mingling with fire. They’d started a conversation with you, it seemed.

Mystery tilted his head slightly, fringe shifting just enough to allow for his eyes to settle on your and on the other person’s wave. He didn’t need to see you two to know what was going on. Emotions echoed far louder in waves than any words or expressions ever could.

It was laughable obvious that you, were not enjoying yourself. Not even enough to put on your usual act of politeness.

Meanwhile, the other wave pulsed with attraction, lust—and something else. Something deeper. Darker.

Mystery’s tongue briefly traced the corner of his lips, chasing the lingering taste of that wave’s emotional texture. It was rare to savour something like this from a human—twisted, volatile, and raw. Prey like this didn’t come along often.

If he had to describe it, it was like a cloying cocktail—sickly sweet and far too potent. Heavy on the artificial flavour, burning at the edges. The kind that stung more going down, but left you craving more.

It wasn’t hard to guess what that person wanted from you. But it was just as easy to feel you weren’t interested and growing with each word more uncomfortable. Your emotional response practically screamed it at the persons polite “I’d like to get to know you” mask.

Mystery was growing bored.

It felt like one of those trashy dramas he’d given up on after cracking the formula—he could predict the whole plot from the first five minutes and opening theme.

Still standing on the side hidden from the humans gazes, he straightened slightly, exhaling a shallow breath as he mentally counted down the seconds until you declared they were here long enough and were allowed to leave.

Even so, he remained vaguely attuned to everyone's waves in the room. So when he suddenly felt a spike of fear roll off you, Mystery’s attention snapped back to your presence.

His lips twitched. He had to bit down to stifle the sharp grin threatening to surface, the edge of one canine tooth pressing too deep. Ash tingled on his tongue, and steam curled faintly along his lips.

Now this is interesting... he thought as he leaned forward slightly.

Your wave was unsteady—panicked, yet sluggish, like someone already half-drunk. The other human's, on the other hand, brimmed with satisfaction and just a hint of caution.

Interest piqued, Mystery stepped forward silently, gliding through the room without so much as a sound from his shoes. He slipped past the crowd like a ghost, weaving through bodies, avoiding eye contact. He even passed the black-haired huntress—who, up until that moment, had been preoccupied at the food table.

Mystery caught the second she realised he was no longer by the wall as her barly hidden wave shivered in panic.

But it didn’t matter. Something else had his attention.

He stopped only once he had a clear line of sight to you and the stranger.

To a normal onlooker, you looked like a tired manager—tipsy, maybe dozing—leaning on a well-dressed companion who held you upright with casual ease. Your plain appearance and proximity suggested familiarity, so no one batted an eye when the person began leading you away, all while wearing a soothing, harmless smile.

But to him... you were screaming.

Your wave dripped dread, slick and cold, tinged with a flicker of arousal that felt artificial rather than emotional. Mystery’s brows furrowed in confusion, then smoothed out again.

How dumb are you... he wondered, veiled eyes dropping to the glass innocently sitting forgotten on the bar.

It reeked of something sterile. The stench of a drug so potent he could barely smell the drink you’d originally ordered. He shouldn’t have expected you to have a trained nose like the royalty used to, or someone at your side to test your drink for poison. And the barista? Clearly overworked and busy dealing with half the room already drunk.

Still, he’d thought you had enough brain cells not to turn your back on a stranger with an open drink.

This also wasn’t an accident. The drug was meant for you.

Whatever happened next... it was your fault. You let yourself be distracted. Let yourself be affected by an unfounded reason in your head instead of trying to find the evidence for what you were thinking.

However, what bothered him the most was that he didn't understood the reason why you still didn't stormed off to scold Abby and Baby for their behaviour like you usually did.

But what drove him forward wasn’t his curiosity—it was the sudden realisation that poured over him when he watched your back leaving with the stranger.

If they took you, he’d be stuck here even longer. Gwi-ma knew how much of your human brain would fry in the aftermath too which added to the hours spend here.

Emotional trauma was such a messy business. He really didn’t want to wait for the hamster in your head to recover and start spinning the wheel again.

Mystery didn't hesitated following behind.

By the time the person pressed the elevator button, their arm wrapped neatly around your waist and your body slumped slightly against them, Mystery was already standing behind them.

His shadow stretched long and unnatural across the marble floor, and for a fraction of a second, the darkness where his mouth would be, curled open, lined with sharp teeth.

The human must’ve seen it. Or felt it. Either way, they tensed immediately.

They turned, jerking around to face him. You grunted, startled by the sudden movement, your hands curling weakly into the stranger’s clothes. The person locked eyes with Mystery—but Mystery’s own eyes were still partially veiled, his mouth set in a serene, polite smile.

“If I may,” he said smoothly, extending one hand with quiet elegance toward both of you, “I believe you're taking away my manager.”

The human opened his mouth, likely preparing to speak—but one breath was all it took. Mystery’s aura, thick and suffocating, enveloped the space around them like smoke pressing against skin. The human immediately choked on his own words, coughing violently as the pressure gripped his lungs.

To any outsider watching, it would look like nothing more than a chain-smoker spluttering mid-conversation—holding onto a clearly intoxicated manager whose glassy eyes and flushed face said they were seconds from blacking out.

Hmm... Mystery tilted his head slightly, curious. What exactly did this human give you?

A second question now joined the first. And he planned on getting answers to both later.

Not wasting the moment, Mystery reached for your hand, the one still clenched tightly in the stranger’s shirt. With a gentle but firm pull, he loosened your grip, letting your weight shift naturally toward him. At the same time, he reached for the hand the human had wrapped around your waist—and gently pried it away.

There was a faint, sickening crack. The kind of brittle snap that could only mean joints being wrenched past their limit.

It was quickly followed by a strangled, muffled grunt of pain as the human buckled, trying to hold back a yelp. But the tension in his body, already rattled by Mystery’s suffocating presence, gave him no room to brace.

The coughing returned violently, choking him mid-gasp as his damaged hand curled reflexively, limp and crooked.

... Whoops? Mystery mused, glancing down at the limp hand in his grasp, fingers twisted unnaturally.

Not his fault. The human had instinctively tightened his grip when Mystery intervened, forcing him to use just a bit more strength than intended.

With a single, fluid motion, he released the stranger’s hand and pulled you toward him.

Before you could fall completely into his chest, Mystery stopped you—his hands slipping beneath your elbows, holding you steady before you could facepalmed onto the floor. He kept you at arm’s length, as you gathered yourself. He didn’t speak. He simply watched as you fought to reclaim your footing.

Only once you were relatively stable did he lift his gaze—peering over your shoulder, fringe shifting just enough for one sharp eye to lock onto the stranger who now crouched on the floor, clutching his broken hand.

Feeling the weight of that stare, the man looked up.

His eyes were glassy, swimming in fear and alcohol-induced confusion. His emotional wave spilled out, thick with panic and sour dread. Delicious, Mystery offered him a sharp, deliberate grin, letting his canines show in full before mouthing: Thank you.

This man had just made Mystery’s night.

Not only did he now have the perfect excuse to usher everyone out early, but he had two very interesting questions for you.

And you’d better answer both questions in full detail.

Because whatever mental strain you were about to suffer, thanks to your own careless ignorance, had been cut short by his interference. And Mystery? He was absolutely going to hold this favour over your head for a very long time.

════════════════════════════

▻ Jinu SAJA

🐦‍⬛ To say Jinu was thrilled to be attending another event that assaulted all his five senses at once - something he hadn't even realised was possible the first time he went - would’ve been a huge overstatement. But unlike the others, Jinu was pretty cooperative when it came to getting dressed up. Riiight after Abby who comply immediately.

🐦‍⬛ He’d long since accepted that the world ran on equal exchange. Whether it was a copper coin for a handful of rice, compliments for a small piece of bread, or a soul for a better life, the principle remained the same. Jinu was no stranger to the balance that governed every interaction, every relationship. Something given, something gained.

🐦‍⬛ That same principle was what fuelled his offer to his brothers-in-rank: a chance to roam freely in the human world in exchange for their abilities and cooperation. It had worked... ...mostly.

🐦‍⬛ Soo... if they wanted to steal the spotlight from the huntresses and win over their fans, he knew what had to be done. They had to offer something of themselves. That meant attending these events, mingling, performing, letting the humans interact with them, giving just enough to get something back in return, like recognition. Deals. Resources. Influence.

🐦‍⬛ As such, Jinu was currently drowning in polite conversation, fighting the urge to bite his tongue off with every empty, vapid sentence given to him. Barely an hour into the night, and he was already surrounded - trapped like prey by a school of intoxicated piranhas. Truly ironic... he thought almost boredly.

🐦‍⬛ Slick compliments, forced laughter, business cards, partnerships - they were throwing everything at him like candy, hoping to get his favour in return. He smiled. Nodded. Repeated the same carefully rehearsed promises: “I’ll take this back to the team. We’ll evaluate all proposals and respond accordingly.”

🐦‍⬛ Once was all it took to learn that making decisions without the others was a terrible idea. They’d made it abundantly clear, through a few memorable threats, that they didn’t appreciate being dragged into things blind.

🐦‍⬛ Now, standing near the bar had its perks though. It gave him the perfect view of you. And oh, boy... Jinu blinked slowly, gaze narrowing just slightly. He wondered, briefly, if he’d ever been that naïve. That unaware and trusting back when he was a human.

🐦‍⬛ The answer came quickly. A dull hollowness ache in his chest. That searing fire, given to him the moment his soul was taken, whip around. Its smoke curled beneath his ribs like long, bony fingers, clawing persistently at what was left of him. Then came the sound. A screeching laugh, jagged and cold. Gwi-ma.

🐦‍⬛ His Lord cackled at his thoughts, mocking and amused, until Jinu forcefully pulled his focus back to the present. To you. And the mess you were now brewing for their band.

━━━━━━━━

Even back when he was human. Back when he was... allowed to live among riches. Jinu never understood the appeal of alcohol.

He’d watched everyone in the palace drink it like it was the finest nectar: a beverage bestowed by the gods, reserved only for those deemed worthy. A luxury the wealthy drank like water, while the poor knelt with hollow eyes, praying for a single drop.

Jinu had been born into poverty, surrounded by that yearning. And so, like many others, he had high expectations when he finally brought a glass to his lips. Those expectations shattered the instant the liquid scorched down his throat, clawing its way like fire.

In a desperate attempt to soothe the burning, he swallowed hard—only to gag as his own saliva thickened the sting. It felt as though even that had turned to liquor, coating his tongue in a bitter haze.

From that moment, Jinu despised the taste—long before he ever became a demon. And now, with his heightened senses, he knew if he ever tried it again, it would come right back up.

Then and now, the appeal remained lost on him. Alcohol dulled the senses, blurred vision, made fools of men and woman—and left them groaning in pain the next day and flushed with shame. He’d seen enough of the royals stumbling through their hangovers to know how it ended.

He’d even gone as far as to ask Mystery about it once. That had been… an interesting exchange.

It was the first time Jinu had seen him go completely blank. His demonic aura stilled—frozen mid-flare—before flickering back to life, settling into that usual calm exterior as if nothing had happened.

All Jinu got in return was a soft, measured reply: “To drown out the thoughts.”

He hadn’t pushed further. And something told him bringing it up with Gwi-ma would’ve made things worse. There was a part of him that suspected Gwi-ma might even drag Mystery into it for some twisted entertaiment.

Jinu may not know who Mystery was back when he was a human. Just as neither of them truly knew who Jinu had once been. But that one reaction—so sudden, so unrehearsed—had told him more about the elder demon than any direct answer ever could.

And still… he didn’t understand. So, seeing you now—ordering an alcoholic drink, albeit a light one from the scent—made Jinu arch a brow.

To avoid suspicion from the piranhas encircling him, he slipped into an easy smile, nodding as though he were listening to their chattering. His body remained still, posture relaxed, but his focus had narrowed to your wave specifically—pointedly ignoring the tangled mass of others crowding the room.

His chest rose sharply in from the frustration when he felt your wave quivered with irritation.

It took effort not to react outwardly. Why would you be annoyed—?

Something lit up behind his eyes. A low breath slipped past his lips.

Idiots, he thought bitterly, scanning for familiar auras.

It didn’t take long. Mystery stood off to the side, keeping to himself, just as expected. Further in, Abby was already surrounded by a small crowd, his aura glowing with that familiar, inviting warmth.

Jinu could practically feel the shape of a sunny smile radiating from where Abby stood—easy and effortless. What caught his attention, though, was who he had at his side.

Baby, visibly annoyed, was being held close—though it was unclear if Abby was unaware of the warning signs or simply choosing to ignore the young demon's aura cracking sharply, snapping against Abby’s in restrained annoyance.

Still, Jinu’s focus didn’t stay on them for long. The moment he let himself truly focus, he found his answer.

Romance’s energy drifted like perfume, sweet and cloying, threading through the room without resistance. His aura wove effortlessly into the wave of every human nearby, soaking them, and amplifying their adoration and anticipation for him.

He wasn’t pushing anyone away. Of course he wasn’t.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Romance was drawing a crowd, letting humans touch him freely, and returning every gesture with more warmth. A hand on a shoulder, fingers grazing an arm, a playful lean-in. Nothing overt. But enough.

Enough to set you off it seemed.

Still—why would you—

Click.

Jinu’s back stiffened. His head turned at the sound of the shutter, eyes briefly catching the humans around him shifting their attention to him.

Jinu smoothly relaxed his expression, let a polite smile ease across his lips, and said, “That does sound plausible, but I believe Sir [random Korean surname] may also have something to add.”

The group lit up again, resuming their chatter, giving him just enough space to think.

So. Humans with cameras. Brilliant. If those pictures made it online, they’d go—what was the word? Viral. That would mean chaos. Speculation. And inevitably, more stress for you, as their manager.

It all made sense now—why you’d want to drown out your thoughts.

What didn’t make sense… was the sudden shift in your wave. The way it made him dizzier than it should with a sterile taste clinging to his senses—like synthetic gloss smeared over something rotten underneath.

It took some effort but the fog was beginning to lift slowly. Then it hit him.

Are they serious? His head snapped toward you, no effort made to hide it, brows furrowed with sharp disbelief.

From the outside, you looked completely at ease with few drinks in, using the arm of someone you appeared to know to lean against for much needed support.

To everyone else, you looked like you were having a pleasant evening.

To him, you were clearly out of it. Gripping onto a stranger who reeked of bitterness, cloaked in a sensation Jinu knew far too well by now.

How pathetic can one be.... Jinu’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, tinted with mild judgement. He could hardly believe humans went so far as to drug someone just to bed them.

Although…

His gaze slid to the human currently holding you upright, steering you slowly towards the elevators. Yeah, you’re definitely dying alone—wait. Focus.

Jinu snapped out of the spiral, forcing his attention back to the situation at hand.

There were the shutters stationed around the room. Everyone here knew you were SAJA’s manager. If any of those eager lenses caught you like this—forget Romance—the media would explode with your name. Gossip would spread across Korea, maybe even internationally and who would take the biggest hit?

Them. Not wasting another second, Jinu plastered on an awkward smile to the surrounding circle, murmured a quick, “Ah, I need to check something. Please email my manager the details,” and offered a polite bow.

Then he was off.

He kept his pace controlled, trying to appear casual even as he moved quickly, weaving through the crowd with purpose. He could feel the humans with the shutters shifting through the space like predators who'd just scented fresh blood.

A thrill ran up his spine. His steps lengthened, posture sharpening, something dangerous flaring behind his grin as the hunt set in.

And just as one of the humans with a shutter lens revealed herself—eyes scanning with quiet suspicion—Jinu stepped cleanly in front of you and the stranger holding you, blocking you both with the full breadth of his back.

The stranger froze, clearly not expecting interference. Their grip on you tightened instinctively. You on the other hand looked barely present. Jinu could feel our wave moving unfocused, more confused than it should’ve been.

Jinu gave you a quick once-ove with a critical eye, then turned to the stranger with a polite but sharp smile.

“If I may,” he said smoothly, already reaching forward.

He plucked you from the stranger’s arms with ease, drawing you into his chest. You groaned, head pressing against him, and Jinu internally panicked as he held you, don’t purge, don’t purge, don’t purge—

On the outside, he retained a sharp smirk, eyes flicking to the woman with the shutter who was still looking around clearly skeptical and believe something was happening around here.

Perfect~ Jinu turned back toward the stranger, his smile stretching wider as he leaned in—just enough to savour the way their face lost colour. Fear rolled off them in waves, bitter and sour, coating his tongue with that familiar rot.

It was so palpable it made his teeth itch. He wanted to bite. Just enough to silence that weak, quivering wave.

Maybe that’s why he let his teeth click together softly, the quiet sound sharp enough to make the stranger flinch. Jinu said nothing, simply holding you closer against his chest, his body a solid shield between you and everything else.

You pressed further into him, your senses clearly overstimulated from whatever was running though your system—face half-hidden, you flinched slightly from the glaring lights and pulsing music while your hand fisted into his button-up.

“Nice to meet you,” Jinu said cheerily. “Jinu from SAJA. You must want to become a famous artis, seeing as you’re escorting our manager to… discuss business.” He nodded to himself with a childlike smile, even as the stranger’s head shook violently.

Jinu ignored the stranger’s muttering, stepping to the side just enough to give them a full view of the woman with the shutter. She was closer now, scanning the room with narrowed, calculated eyes.

He met the stranger’s startled gaze, then flashed a sharp grin and gently began to guide you away, one arm firm around your back, the other pushing you close to his chest, hiding your eyes.

As they passed, the stranger’s discomfort became more obvious—their jaw tense, eyes flicking wildly between Jinu and the nearby shutter.

Jinu leaned in close to their ear, his voice low and coated in mock cheer. “I recommend you smile~”

Then, without missing a beat, he stepped around them—foot catching theirs in a deliberate sweep.

The stranger stumbled, letting out a short, startled noise as they crashed backward.

Jinu didn’t break stride.

He kept walking, one arm wrapped around you protectively, your weight leaning into him as he shielded your form with his body. Behind him came the beautiful sound of a crash—the stranger had collided with a passing waiter, the tray of liquor soaking them head to toe.

The sharp click-click-click of cameras followed.

Jinu grinned. Until he felt the brush of Baby’s aura—amused, rippling through the background like fingers wiggling in his direction.

Jinu huffed under his breath. I’m surprised he lasted this long without causing chaos, he thought, adjusting his grip on you as he moved toward the bathrooms, keeping to the edges of the event space. Luckily, attention had started drifting to Abby and Romance, both of whom were drawing enough of a scene to cover him.

Whether they’d sensed what he was doing or were just being themselves didn’t matter. What did matter was the purple-haired huntress locking eyes with him as he passed.

Rumi? Jinu blinked, brows furrowing as his gaze found her across the room. Didn’t expect those three to show up...

She was giving him a look. Jinu froze just long enough to meet her stare. Then his expression shifted—wide-eyed innocence, mouth parted in a real surprise.

Rumi clenched her drink, jaw tightening as she visibly wrestled the urge to act.

Jinu blinked slowly. Then his grin turned manic. He drew you closer, grinning with all his teeth—canines flashing—as he tilted his head and opened his mouth as if to bite.

Rumi stiffened instantly. The glass shattered in her grip.

Jinu felt the sudden surge in her aura as she called to the honmoon—only to falter when another series of camera clicks erupted from her side.

The shutter had successfully caught the moment.

Realisation dawned too late on her face as she whirled to the source of the shutters.

Jinu snickered quietly to himself, victorious, and resumed walking.

Even if his chest felt hollow with only Gwi-ma's fire licking its side, both keeping him alive and taunting him all the same, Jinu couldn’t help the pleased grin on his face.

He could already see the headlines.

Could feel more of the Huntr/X fans looking away from them and isntead becoming attached to them

And Jinu… oh, he could feel it already. That phantom sensation of his soul finally filling up his empty body.

════════════════════════════

▻ Romance SAJA

🌹 Romance was, by far, the least likely demon to resist or complain once informed he’d be attending a gala as an invited guest, and expected to socialise.

🌹 Firstly ! It gave him the perfect excuse to pamper himself. Secondly ! He could parade around as flamboyantly as he pleased. And thirdly ! Free buffet, sweetie~ Every corner dripped with honmoon energy, honey-dipped and magnified by the burning sting of alcohol that never failed to make Romance feel like an addict getting his long-overdue fix.

🌹 Suffice it to say, your only real concern should've been him terrorising the makeup artists and dressing staff. He’d critique colours combinations, point out with a frown where a particular necklace should go, given that shirt, and oh my Gwi - he meant God, obviously - how dare anyone try to let this visual atrocity happen on his person: “I may make everything look dazzling,” he’d scoff, adjusting his collar with a dramatic flourish, “but even I have standards, darling. This? This is just a crime against fashion and me!”

🌹 And for a while, you thought that was the worst of it. Unfortunately, you forgot one crucial detail - Romance drew crowds. He basked in attention like a sun when it drew every sunflower, and he wasn’t shy about giving people exactly what they came for.

🌹 You would barely turn your back before he was surrounded by admirers, basking in praise, laughing too loudly, kissing hands, and letting his fingers dance on exposed skin on anyone who got a bit daring, promising them sweet everything if they played their cards right.

🌹 He would be one of the reasons you found yourself retreating to the bar with a clenched jaw and a white-knuckled grip on your drink, so the tabloids wouldn't capture something worse than just Romance's antics - because what you wanted to do to him would definitely add to your and the HR wrinkles overnight.

━━━━━━━━

Romance was in his element.

The room shimmered with colours - crimson, violet, and that chilling blue - each shade laced through the air like fine threads of silk. Crimson lines danced around him, while the blue waves of the honmoon ran through the walls and floor.

And from all of them, delicate particles caught the light as they pulsed through the crowd. He could taste them on his tongue every time he laughed or spoke, far more intoxicating than the so-called gods' blood in the glass he was holding, which tasted nothing like he remembered from his human years.

Must be the heightened sensitivity of demon senses, Romance thought, brushing off the bitter flavour easily. It was a fleeting thought, drowned quickly in the heady warmth that radiated from the humans surrounding him. Their waves were just so sweet~

He even noticed a few dull purples shift into beautiful crimson, while one or two icy blues mellowed into bittersweet purple before gradually deepening into that rich, savoury red.

Safe to say, Romance considered himself to be doing splendidly. Two souls with one swipe. Not only was he spreading their influence, but he was also thoroughly enjoying himself ! A win-win, really.

He didn’t care what his brothers were up to, nor did he concern himself with where you’d gone. His entire focus was on the humans willingly feeding him their beautiful souls, soon to be gifted to their Lord.

Of course, there was the low, gritty hum of Gwi-ma’s presence in the back of his mind. It clawed at him like a warning, tugging at his grin until it twitched with the faintest flicker of pain. Thankfully, Romance knew how to appease insatiable royals~

Every King needs a taste tester, no? He needs to taste the souls to make sure they are just right. That thought was enough to ease the pressure. The weight of Gwi-ma’s presence lifted, no doubt shifted onto another of his brothers, and Romance relaxed with a small sigh. He raised his glass of gods' blood and offered a silent, sarcastic prayer to his brothers in his mind.

Amusingly, the surrounding humans lifted their glasses with him, laughing as he did, though they had no idea why. Drunk or not, Romance always found it fascinating how effortlessly humans mirrored the biggest energy in the room.

Mannerisms haven’t changed a bit~ he mused with a self-satisfied smile, bringing the glass to his lips. He didn’t drink it - he simply let the liquid rest against his lips, never allowing it to slip into his mouth.

The night was shaping up beautifully, he believed. Until he tasted distress.

It filtered in like a sharp note against the glittering harmony of the room. Romance barely managed to keep his expression smooth, resisting the urge to wince or furrow his brow.

With a dazzling smile still painted across his lips, he subtly shifted, sharp eyes scanning for the wave that was making such ruckus. His gaze landed on yours.

His smile twitched. A subtle furrow formed between his brows.

With far more ease than the chaos of overlapping waves should have allowed, Romance tracked the thread of your soul line, now laced with irritation and discomfort. It led him to the bar, half-concealed behind a cluster of human bodies.

You must have slipped away at some point for some reason. Romance took one step back, slow and fluid, tilting his head just enough to peer through the crowd, eyes already zeroing on you.

He wondered what could have soured your usually smoothly sweet soul, A bad drink, perhaps? Or maybe some clumsy human had stumbled too close, unaware of the polite boundaries?

Romance’s grin sharpened. Ah, the latter than~ he thought, once he saw the stranger standing next to you.

A tipsy guest, by the look of the stagger in their stance and the slurred mess of their soul wave. It spilled over yours in messy strokes, clinging to it like grease over silk. Romance felt a shiver of disgust tickle his spine.

He liked your wave. It was one of the few he genuinely enjoyed. Watching it get sullied by someone else felt wrong. Still, there was something oddly intimate about the way their line tried to twist around yours, enough to make him lick his canines that sharpened without him realising.

Now~ if the advances had been wanted, Romance would have shamelessly fed off the both of you, stand back and enjoyed the show.

But no. He could taste it clear as day.

You wanted to kick the stranger square in the gut.

How amusing. Romance blinked slowly, almost owlishly, at the scene playing out before him. You weren’t reciprocating the attention in the slightest, and the stranger was blatantly ignoring every polite cue you gave.

By now, the conversations around him had faded into white noise. He was invested in what you'll do next.

Romance wasn’t worried for you, not in the slightest. You dealt with them on a daily basis - you knew how to handle unruly creatures. If anything, he was eager to see just how you’d put this one in their place!

However...

Romance’s eyes narrowed the moment he saw you turn away, distracted by what he could feel was Baby attempting to stab someone with a wooden skewer. Baby's blaring aura crackled from across the room, followed by Jinu's intense one that spoke on how he desperately tried to hold Baby back. The raw energies brushed against Romance’s skin, one calling out to him to "help out" while the other bared its teeth in irritation to intervene and “swap this fly away from me,”.

Romance easily ignored both his brothers as he was far too focused on what was happening in front of him. That brief lapse had given the stranger beside you just enough time to slip something into your unattended drink.

Romance tilted his head, lips twitching. If it were his drink, he’d have moved it with him almost out of instinct. Trusting strangers with an open drink? About as wise as hoping to find diamond-studded jewellery lying untouched in the gutter he grew up in.

But let’s entertain a foolish scenario. Even if he’d left it behind, seeing the stranger’s behaviour from earlier, no rational being would drink from it afterward-

Romance watched in disbelief as you turned away, a mix of irritation and relief flickering through him from your wave. He could feel that Jinu had dealt with the situation—effectively, yes, but not without raising your blood pressure in the process.

And then... you picked up your drink. Without hesitation, you went and downed it in one go.

Romance exhaled - a long, weary sigh - like a disappointed parent watching their child drink down a pungent chemical.

Shaking his head, Romance opened his mouth and let the air settle on his tongue, tasting the mingling waves of the guests around him. The alcohol’s sting still lingered on his lips, adding a pleasant burn to the layers of intoxication wrapping around his senses.

My, oh my… seems like self-preservation really is on the decline, Romance mused as your wave quivered - dizzy, confused, laced with sudden distress.

The stranger, of course, leapt at the chance to “help.” He stepped closer to you, wrapping a supportive arm around your waist as he leaned in to murmur something - his hand squeezing your hip with his wave now dripping with syrupy lust that clashed violently against your own.

Romance grimaced at the taste. It was thick and clogging, - soured by your rising fear and gummy lust.

Now, had the advances been welcomed, he would’ve quite happily indulged in both of your waves. But as it stood? This was distasteful. Repugnant.

The kind of act the stranger had in mind should always be mutual. Where’s the fun in pleasure that only one party is enjoying?

Romance straightened with quiet precision, spine tall and shoulders set, the elegance of his posture undercut by the ice settling across his expression. Any trace of warmth bled from his face, leaving only the sheen of detachment.

His gaze sharpened. A faint shimmer of yellow pulsed through the muted pink of his irises as he tracked the two of you. The stranger was already guiding you away from the bar, hand low at your back.

Within seconds, the stranger’s wave surged, its movement thick, pulsing brightly through the clutter of surrounding threads. It writhed like oil on water, cutting through the room’s chaos with a flare that dragged Romance’s gaze straight to it.

His mouth curled slowly, lips parting in a foxy grin that barely touched his eyes. The vertical slits of his pupils narrowed. He slid his foot forward with unhurried precision, placing the tip of his polished shoe atop the stranger’s soul line.

The pressure was light, but the wave surged in response - slow and syrupy, crawling up through the thread and spilling into Romance’s hollow chest like warm rot. It thickened in his throat, clinging to the sides and forcing Romance to swallow.

His gaze then snapped upward. You were swaying now. Your limbs had gone loose, head tilting as though the muscles in your neck relaxed where it was impossible to control it. The stranger held you close, arm locked behind your back, steering you toward the elevators with the steady confidence of a predator parading its dead prey in its teeth like it was alone.

Romance’s jaw tightened. He bit down on his tongue, teeth sinking into flesh until the familiar taste of ash bloomed in his mouth. Dry and acrid, it burned through the sweetness choking him, allowing for his mind to clear out as a low sound rose from his throat, darkening the edge of his smirk.

Then he drove his heel down, hard.

The result was immediate.

His aura exploded outward in a rush of purple and pink, heat crackling across the floor like a split vein. The flame tore through the soul thread in a single burst, racing toward its source with the blistering wrath.

The stranger jolted as though something had punched straight through their back. Their spine bowed sharply, muscles locking. Eyes flew open, wide and unseeing, the flicker of confusion collapsing almost instantly into panic.

Then the flame caught - racing to the end of the thread before bursting into them, swallowing their body in the fury of Gwi-ma’s fire.

They let out a choked gasp, staggered forward with unfocused eyes as they left you dangerously sway alone, too busy clawing at their chest. Their hands shot to their neck next, nails dragging over skin as they fought for air that refused to come.

Then their knees buckled. They hit the floor with a thud, limbs twitching as the fire wrapped around them, feeding on what it found. Their face twisted, mouth open in a soundless scream, body writhing in full view. Romance stood still, gaze unmoved, lifting his foot as the thread pulsed in distress.

Around them, heads turned. A few gasps cut through the low music and dying conversations of the crowd at the scene. From the outside, it looked like a guest who had simply drunk too much and finally tipped over, feeling the burn of one of the sharper liquors.

Romance lifted his flute glass, tilting it just enough to cover the faint curl of amusement pulling at his lips. His gaze didn’t shift. The stranger’s body gave another violent jolt. Their limbs twitched uncontrollably, shoulders curling inward as if trying to brace against something burning from within. Watery eyes blinked fast, unfocused. Their mouth fell open in a dry, convulsing gag, the throat pulsing with effort - yet not a breath passed through.

Romance’s thoughts drifted, unbothered, to a memory buried deep in his past. Golden ceilings. Velvet gowns. A royal figure tipping sideways mid-toast, the glass slipping from pale fingers. Poisoned wine on the tongue, the lips turning grey, followed by that same pitiful heaving - like their own body had turned traitor too, trying to wrench the soul out through the mouth.

He turned his head. There was no need to witness such an unsightly spectacle a second time in his lifetime.

His shoulders rose slightly, the movement crisp with disdain, though the faint smile lingered. In the background, the first sickened retch echoed loud and wet across the music. Voices dropped with all the conversations hushing down.

Soon, the sound of the half-formed mutters stitched with unease and judgement filled up the tense silence. It wasn’t until the security guards arrived that he finally looked again.

The stranger was being dragged away, limp and dazed, barely conscious. And you - now caught between Jinu and Abby. Jinu stood motionless, face unreadable as ever, as he scanned the room with critical eyes. Meanwhile, Abby patted your back with puppy eyes as he steadied most of your weight, clearly reassuring you that it's okay to be a lightweight.

Romance then met Jinu’s eyes across the room. With no hint of shame, he raised his glass in a slow, theatrical toast. Cheers~. His grin stretched wider in feigning innocence.

Jinu’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, and he shot Romance a look that hovered somewhere between warning and horror. A quick tilt of his head gestured toward the far side of the room - subtle, but pointed.

Romance didn’t need to follow the direction where Jinu motioned.

He knew the second they entered that the three huntresses were there too.

Threaded through the sea of scattered bodies and flickering waves, one of them was drawing closer. Beneath the low hum of background chatter, her energy curled sharply at the edges, pressed thin behind the muted violets and the steady, chilled rhythm of a few blue waves.

The bright pink Pomeranian! Romance perked up at the familiar pulse, a flicker of delight sparking in his chest.

Her wave rolled in beneath the crowd’s noise - tight with restraint, but laced with that same intoxicating cocktail he knew too well. Fury simmered at her core, sweet at first taste but edged with sharp irritation and just the faintest trace of fear. That rich blend always made him crave more. Such rare fury was too irresistible.

His tongue slid across his bottom lip, catching the glossy smear of cherry lipstick and the sting of lingering alcohol. The flavour singed the tip of his tongue, burning in a way he imagined the huntress's soul would taste like.

Still, Romance simply arched a brow at Jinu. Why should he care?

Mystery was here after all. Romance didn't have to hold back~

He turned away from his senior without waiting to see his next expression, facing the group that had already begun to hum with fresh noise. Conversations picked up where he had also caught from others similar fragments of exaggerated retellings and a few more clumsy guesses at what had just happened.

Perfect. Romance's smile widened as he slipped into the current of gossip without hesitation, already picturing tomorrow’s headlines and the inevitable flurry of posts.

He never objected to indulgence. He welcomed it warmly when it was mutual and all the parties received what they had craved. But salivating beasts in heat that desperately chased just to soothe their own pitiful need ?

He loathed them.

════════════════════════════

▻ Abby SAJA

💪 Abby was the angel here. Ironic, of course - but unlike the others, this one was obedient. When you informed the group about the upcoming gala - and no, Baby, it is mandatory - the room filled with groans and sighs. Except Abby. He was beaming, glancing around at his brothers with visible confusion, clearly wondering why everyone else looked like they were heading to their funeral.

💪 While the rest of them whined about itchy clothes and sticky makeup - Romance barking orders like a stage mum on opening night - Abby sat perfectly still, listening to instructions and following them without a peep. So, naturally, you had high hopes. You thought, At least Abby will behave. You genuinely believed he’d remain the angel he’d been all afternoon.

💪 And then the gala began. Your hopes shattered the instant Abby’s booming voice echoed through the elegant ballroom: “THE SAJA ARE HERE EVERYBODY! WHOOOO!!!”

💪 The reaction was instant. First, blank stares. Then, the polite murmurs and strained diplomacy turned to full-blown teenage hysteria in seconds. It was as if someone had flip the switch no one knew was even there.

💪 If you didn’t know Abby, you might’ve thought it was a calculated distraction - a deliberate stunt to let the other four little gremlins slip away and avoid being roped into something ‘good for their image’ by you. But no. Abby was just being Abby. Loud, proud, and oblivious. And the other four? Shamelessly taking the opportunity to scatter like the rats they were.

💪 Not even ten seconds later, you spotted Abby again, arms flexed as two guests clung to each bicep like accessories. He grinned, revelling in the attention, the cameras of the reports practically worshipping him. The SAJA member with zero concern for tomorrow’s tabloids or the HR nightmares waiting back at the office for you and the other staff.

💪 You stared, mouth agape, a headache already pulsing at your temples. Still, it might’ve been salvageable. You were already preparing to march over, grab him by the earlobe, and glue him to your side for the rest of the night.

💪 But then - because apparently you were cursed - Baby strolled past, holding what was unmistakably a stolen crystal sculpture in one hand? He paused, leaned in, and with a smirk, gently pressed a finger under your chin to close your mouth.

💪 “Careful there, manager~ Your breath might attract flies,” he teased, shooting you a sideways glance before vanishing into the crowd, looted art and all.

💪 You stared after him in silent horror. Suddenly, alcohol sounded like a perfectly reasonable idea.

━━━━━━━━

"I'll bet my next prey they'll drink it," Baby said indifferently, cradling the shimmering sculpture in his hands. He pressed a sharp canine into the ice, piercing it with the ease of a hot knife slicing through butter - before accidentally snapping it in half.

He frowned, scoffing, "Cheap."

As the party shifted from glamorous to overwhelming, the five of them had drifted to Mystery, who - as always - found the perfect hiding spot on the second floor with an ideal vantage point where they could see everyone, but no one could see them unless they looked properly.

But more importantly, Mystery’s presence shielded them from the dizzying waves of ambience that made even them feel drunk, despite their immunity to alcohol.

Huddled together, they peered down over the railings at the bar. You’d been standing there just minutes ago, visibly uncomfortable, as judging by that fancy suit and cowlicked hair, another manager struck up a conversation with you.

Romance, already halfway through a dramatic eye-roll, muttered, “I bet my turf for a month that in five minutes they’ll slap them.”

“Seven,” Jinu replied calmly. “They’ll find an excuse to leave in seven. And if not - you’re free to pick whichever show you want us to go to.”

The two demons extended their hands from behind Mystery, who stood motionless between them, and shook them once. Their marks flashed briefly from their hands to their elbows, glowing for a second before fading as they let go.

Eight minutes later, you were awkwardly waving the other manager off, visibly relieved as you spotted your escape route - an idol you clearly recognised. With an apologetic smile and a few muttered words, you excused yourself and quickly made your way to them. Your smile was tight, the kind of smile that tried too hard not to show your irritation.

Jinu smirked. “I win,” he said simply, turning to Romance.

Romance scowled, arms crossed with a pouty hmph! as Jinu basked in the satisfaction of having won the other's turf for the month.

The stranger, instead of walking away, lingered. Even taking the opportunity to slip something into your drink. Turning the once-crisp scent of alcohol sour. It reeked of chemicals and left a sterilised taste in their mouth. All four demons gagged in unison.

Mystery’s nose twitched with sharp disgust.

If it wasn’t already obvious from the stranger’s actions, the thick cloud of lust and the subtle icky eagerness laced into their wave made their intentions disgustingly clear.

Which brought them to now. Baby, chewing a piece of the ice between his teeth, made the bet as he stared down at the glass you’d left behind. “Let’s see if they drink it when they come back.”

Romance refused to join in, still sore from losing. Mystery simply didn’t care for wagers. Jinu claimed he’d already used up his luck for the night.

That left Abby. He was half-draped over the railing, chin propped in his palm, clearly zoning out.

Not one to be ignored, Baby narrowed his eyes and snapped, “Abby.”

Abby blinked once, then followed Baby’s gaze down to where the stranger stood waiting for your return. He shrugged lazily. “They’ll drink it.”

“Fuck,” Baby muttered, biting off another chunk of the half-melted sculpture in frustration. Ice shards fell to the floor with a quiet clatter. A few humans turned, curious, but when they saw the five of them standing still and poised, they looked away just as quickly, whispering about how "handsome" and "cute" they looked instead of questioning anything.

Abby pressed his ear further into his hand, trying to drown out the buzz of human chatter.

There was no bet if both of them agreed.

Abby might not be one for deep conversation or thinking twice before acting, but even he knew you were going to drink it. He figured you'd come back flustered, force a polite smile again, mutter some excuse to keep the peace... and then, for whatever stupid reason - probably something like “saving face” - you’d down the drugged cocktail without a second thought.

The group watched with a variety of bored expressions as you returned, smiling tightly and bowing politely. You were already talking - likely mumbling an excuse about needing to rejoin the idol.

The stranger “accepted” your explanation with an air of manufactured grace. How generous, the boys thought sarcastically, each of them catching yet another red flag you had clearly chosen to ignore.

Then came the toast. A final, casual clink of glasses. And you-

Abby turned to Baby with a deadpan stare. “What did I win?”

Baby glared. “Nothing,” he bit out, tightening his grip around what was now little more than a melting hunk of ice.

Abby blinked, shrugged, and turned back to keep watching with the rest. Whatever had been in the drink, it was strong. Within moments, your balance swayed, forcing the stranger to steady you with a hand around your waist, like the helpful citizen of society they clearly were.

None of the other guests paid it any mind. Either they were too distracted with themselves, or they simply assumed you knew the human.

The stranger didn’t waste time. They subtly guided you to turn, making the two of you face the second floor as the stranger focused on the elevators just beneath the group’s perch.

Four pairs of eyes watched with steady stares.

Mystery broke the silence with a disapproving click of his tongue, shaking his head in quiet disappointment. Romance covered his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes narrowed in disgust as he glared at the human. Jinu sighed deeply, while Baby and Abby looked boredly, watching as you - clearly hazy - stumbled closer, the stranger holding you far too tightly under the guise of “support.”

Their smile was far too wide. Their hands far too familiar.

At the very least, Abby recognised the behaviour as “scummy” - a word he’d picked up from being sat down in front of far too many human dramas. The females were always yelling. Mostly slapping the human male once they got too touchy.

However, in the condition you were in, Abby should probably compare you to those humans in those "Psychological thrillers" dramas that always end up broken by the end.

And yet... no one moved to intervene. Not even as the stranger led you closer toward the elevators.

Jinu looked around at the others, his expression unreadable. “You guys serious right now?” he asked in a low, disbelieving voice, gesturing toward you and the stranger. “We’re really not going to stop that?”

Three pairs of blank faces met his question. Mystery gave off his usual deadpan silence as the four of them turned lazily toward him.

Romance flicked his hair over one shoulder. “I would,” he said, voice dripping with theatrical exhaustion, “but their wave is too far to reach. And I am not running down a staircase in these boots.” He motioned to the glittering, needle-heeled atrocities on his feet.

Baby gave a slow, exaggerated shrug. “Will I get five weeks off training if I go?”

Jinu frowned. “No?”

“Then do it yourself,” Baby replied instantly with a deadpan expression, and turned his head back to the scene below. The sculpture in his hands continued melting, soaking through his sleeves - and he didn’t seem to notice, or care.

“Baby, darling - give that to me before it ruins your clothes-” Romance reached for the chunk of ice with a sour face.

But Baby clutched it closer, baring his teeth in a low warning growl. Romance immediately snatched his hands back with a surprised yelp, playing up the reaction with wide eyes and a pout like the whole thing had actually startled him.

Jinu stared at them all in disbelief before turning to Mystery for help. The older demon remained unmoved, head fixed forward. Abby was back to resting on the railing, completely zoned out.

Jinu let out a long, exasperated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "Gwi-ma spare me,” he muttered under his breath.

As if hearing that, Gwi-ma decided to stir in the back of his mind, an amused whisper of laughter curling through his thoughts making him scoff.

Jinu closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. He already regretted everything.

Only when he felt Gwi-ma stir behind his ribs - pressing down on his mind with a heavy don’t screw this up energy - did Jinu snap his eyes open again.

Glowing yellow eyes narrowed. You were just steps away from vanishing beneath the second-floor overhang. One more moment, and you'd disappear - and Jinu would be forced to charge downstairs and start a scene loud enough to crash the entire gala.

And as much as he hated to admit it, Romance wasn’t wrong. The psychic waves down there were tangled and distant. He wouldn’t be able to pinpoint either of you fast enough.

He had no choice. Jinu scanned the group one last time, then zeroed in on the only one guaranteed to act if ordered.

“Abby.” The demon’s body tensed immediately. “Do something,” Jinu added, firm.

Abby snapped to action.

In one smooth motion, he plucked the sculpture out of Baby’s hands - who shouted, “Hey!” - and without hesitation, let it drop over the railing.

It hit with a sickening crack.

Shards of sculpted ice exploded across the floor below. The stranger collapsed instantly, blood pooling beneath jagged red crystal. You dropped beside them with a yelp, confused and more dazed than before, a visible scratch along your arm the only mark on you.

Panic bloomed soon after.

The room erupted as humans either rushed forward or scrambled away. Security moved quickly. Journalists pressed in. Dozens of heads turned upward - trying to see where the sculpture had fallen from - but the second-floor balcony was empty.

Down below, murmurs turned to frantic whispers as the scene unravelled. Security called for an ambulance. Paparazzi snapped more photos of the SAJA members now surrounding you - Romance and Baby kneeling close, checking if you were hurt with Mystery, Jinu and Abby shielding you from the lenses aimed at the scene.

The next day, they all watched from the comfort of the apartment as the honmoon barrier outside weakened considerably. A multitude of crimson waves floated widely as videos, photos, and headlines flooded the internet with them looking protective of you, followed by the description of what the humans believed to have happened.

Jinu let out a thoughtful hum as he slid the phone into his pocket and stared outside their window with the others. “Should we start letting Abby talk to Gwi-ma from now on?” he asked aloud.

The others blinked, then nodded slowly in agreement, each of them bewildered by the entire chain of events.

All except Abby.

Abby stopped nodding mid-motion, turned his head toward Jinu, and asked, completely confused, “Wait- what? Why me?”

Oblivious, as always, to his own ridiculous luck.

════════════════════════════

▻ Baby SAJA

🍼 Ha! If you thought Mystery was the hazardous one, you clearly hadn’t dealt with him yet. Baby had vanished.

🍼 One second, he was in the living room with the rest of them as you explained the details of today’s event. You’d turned toward Jinu, who had just raised his hand to ask a question, and then poof. Gone. And judging by the baffled expressions on the others’ faces, you weren’t the only one blindsided.

🍼 Good for you, though! You’d been their manager long enough to know exactly how to drag that brat out of his rat hole. Dangling his precious lollipop jar over the balcony railing had not only flushed him out - it nearly got you shoved over the edge. But heey~ Mission accomplished. Baby was retrieved... though in a spectacularly foul mood.

🍼 Safe to say, by the time staff tried to get close enough to help him get ready, Baby was ready to bite off any hand that reached too near his face. It got bad enough that the poor stylists practically begged Romance for help.

🍼 Romance accepted the request with the solemn expression of a man heading to his own funeral. He took the styling tools with stiff hands while the exhausted staff looked ready to cry with gratitude. Straight-faced and focused, Romance approached the youngest like a knight marching into a dragon’s den.

🍼 Baby, for his part, was perched like royalty - smug and unbothered - glaring down at his “servants.” Power-wise, he knew Romance had him beat by centuries. If Baby relied only on instinct or Gwi-ma’s advice, he’d probably be dead already. But influence-wise? They were equals in this world. That meant neither of them could do anything too risky or revealing their true nature, not without consequences.

🍼 The fact that Baby had already tried to bite multiple fingers off, and the staff had chalked it up to him being “a bit bratty but so cute,” was nothing short of a blind miracle - especially considering Baby saw most things in this world as a curse.

🍼 So when Romance smirked smugly and asked, sweet as poison, for everyone to clear the room, Baby immediately sensed danger. Jinu, the traitor, helped usher the staff out with a strained smile. The others followed willingly. Mystery even clasped his hands in mock prayer as he passed. Abby grinned and gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Then Jinu, still wearing that overly polite smile, quietly closed the door.

🍼 Baby turned slowly, eyes wide, to face his senior - now alone in the room - holding the tools of “beautification” with a sadistic glint in his eye. Safe to say... By the time they all arrived at the gala, Baby was seriously considering leaping down into the demon realm himself rather than waiting to be dragged there by his Lord.

🍼 Speaking of his Lord. Gwi-ma didn’t help. The old demon chattered excitedly in Baby’s head the whole way there, like a toddler thrilled by the prospect of seeing something for the first time.

━━━━━━━━

“𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱… 𝔦𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔞𝔱?”

Baby was nestled in the far corner of the grand bar, perfectly hidden. From his spot, he could only see part of the room - but it was enough. Enough to spot anyone coming his way and giving him time to quickly scatter away.

With his arms crossed, mouth pouty, and eyes glazed in boredom, Baby stared ahead - only mildly paying attention to what Gwi-ma was observing with childlike fascination through his senses.

A long banquet table stretched out across the floor, piled high with an unholy collection of processed horrors. The stench of chemicals and artificial flavours hung in the air, and humans were willingly stuffing it into their bodies.

Maybe that’s why souls have tasted so foul these past few years… Baby mused bitterly.

Gwi-ma hummed in his head, shamelessly confirming that yes, he was indeed listening to every thought.

Taking a long, slow breath, Baby’s eyes drifted toward a small fountain tucked between two platters of neon-coloured desserts. Instead of water, it poured out some thick, yellow liquid he didn’t recognise.

He narrowed his eyes. His nose twitched. Then, after a beat, he looked away again and thought with flat disdain, Piss fountain.

If he were with his brothers, Abby would bark out in laughter, Romance would give him a scandalised scolding, Mystery would ask him more questions out of genuine curiosity, while Jinu would give him tired, half-hearted corrections.

But Gwi-ma simply let out a delighted hum. “ℌ𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤… 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔫𝔬 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔯 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢?”

It was rhetorical, so Baby didn’t bother answering. His head already felt overstuffed with the overwhelming presence of his lord and oppressor, Gwi-ma. The weight pressing against his skull, like he was storing a divine being instead of a brain, had become laughably familiar.

A headache brewed behind his eyes, one that threatened to detonate the second Gwi-ma decided to finally leave him alone. No such luck, yet.

Baby gritted his teeth and took another steadying breath as Gwi-ma promptly ignored his irritation and began pointing out something else, asking what it was and what humans used it for. Again. And again, and again, again-againagaina-

This cycle continued for - who even knew how long - until Baby’s gaze began to wander, finally landing on a lone bottle of liquor just a few feet away. Its sharp amber glow practically called to him.

If I shattered that across my own head, he wondered tiredly, would it silence Gwi-ma’s voice?

He was genuinely curious. How did the others manage to shut their Lord out so easily, while he suffered endlessly?

As Gwi-ma carried on with some long-winded lecture about how drastically human customs had changed, Baby’s eyes drifted back to the bottle. It seemed to shimmer now, almost glowing. His fingers twitched

But just as he was about to reach for it, Gwi-ma’s voice flared again - this time in delighted curiosity. The jolt of it made Baby stiffen, his eyes snapping into focus, forced to follow the Lord’s attention.

“𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔶𝔫𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔶, 𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶?” The way his name rolled off Gwi-ma’s tongue was almost mocking.

Baby said nothing. He had no retort - not even internally. He didn’t even know his human name, unlike most other demons. That alone made something uncomfortable churn in his empty chest - a call for something he couldn’t quite name, and didn’t want to examine.

So, instead of responding to the discomfort twisting through his own body, Baby focused on whatever Gwi-ma had spotted through his eyes.

You were farther down the bar, seated beside some stranger, with your drinks resting untouched in front of you. Your back was turned slightly toward them, head tilted as you tried to hear the person speaking from your magical box - that "mini TV" as Baby stubbornly refused to call it anything else.

You were visibly distracted. Unaware of what the stranger was doing behind your back.

Baby didn’t have to see it directly. Through the flickering glimpses Gwi-ma fed into his mind, he saw what his Lord had a moment ago - how your polite smile didn't quite reach your eyes, how your posture tensed ever so slightly. It made Baby's skin crawl. Or maybe that was just Gwi-ma’s delighted amusement running down his spine like ice water.

Once you turned and became absorbed in your conversation with your “mini TV,” the stranger, with trembling hands, had slipped something into your drink before fumbling the container back into their pocket as quickly as possible.

The mental overload was something Baby had long since grown used to. Gwi-ma had a habit of hijacking his senses more often than not. It no longer made Baby nauseous, but it still brought that eerie static hum behind his ears that made it hard to think.

He couldn’t even attempt to search for your wave or sniff out what had been dropped into the glass. Not with Gwi-ma practically nesting inside his hollowed-out body. With the Lord so closely pressed into his insides, Baby’s senses were heightened tenfold. So much so that even breathing too deeply could make him dizzy.

Which he already was. He exhaled slowly, deliberately, trying to ground himself, keeping his gaze low and unfocused to avoid another overload. But it wasn’t enough.

Gwi-ma pressed further into his mind. Baby tried to piece together what he could from the visual cues - how the stranger moved, the glint of the capsule - but he couldn’t be sure what it all meant.

Don’t believe so, he finally managed to answer tightly in his head, not even sure what question Gwi-ma had even asked anymore, but giving a reply anyway just to shut him up.

Gwi-ma hummed thoughtfully. A static buzz flickered in Baby’s skull before his Lord's voice slithered back in - low and almost gleeful. “𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔟𝔰… 𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔴𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔴𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔦𝔱… 𝔰𝔬 𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔥… 𝔰𝔬 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰. 𝔚𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡𝔫’𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢?”

Before Baby could bark out a fuck off, the sensation hit.

His eyes widened, vision tipping sideways as he reached out and gripped the bar to stop himself from collapsing. He was being force-fed.

Two distinct energies slammed into his senses.

One was yours - sweet crimson, familiar, spiked with unease and prickling with fear. The other was foreign. Sickly. A saccharine honey-like wave that coated your own with a bitter, clogging thickness. It reeked of desperation and something close to lust.

And it made Baby's mouth salivate

His body was being used. Gwi-ma had hijacked his mouth, his throat, his entire body to devour the overlapping energies with sickening gusto. Baby could only stand there, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his arms as he gulped down the foul mess, helpless against it.

Disgusting, he thought, scowling, unable to stop the involuntary swallowing.

He wasn’t a picky eater. But desperate lust was one of the few flavours he’d tasted more than once… and every time, it made him want to throw up.

Thankfully, it stopped as quickly as it began. Though to Baby, it felt like someone had been shoving shattered pieces of soul down his throat for hours.

He hadn’t even realised he was slumped forward, both arms resting on the bar, panting. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin. His canines had lengthened, sharpened to dangerous points.

With a quick swipe of his sleeve, he wiped his mouth, trying to steady himself. His body felt stronger now, buzzing with unwanted energy, even if his throat kept pulling in saliva like it was preparing to purge

“𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔶 𝔤𝔬𝔬𝔡?” Gwi-ma’s voice stretched mockingly through his skull, a grin practically audible in his tone.

Baby didn’t answer, too focused on keeping himself composed - on not gagging. That sickly, medicinal syrup was still coating his tongue and throat, thick and cloying, making it all the harder to breathe.

“ℌ𝔥𝔪𝔪~?”

Baby heard the hum just before his vision warped again. His head was yanked upward - forcefully. He blinked, eyes swimming, seeing double. But Gwi-ma? His Lord was seeing perfectly fine through him.

“𝔦 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯,” the god mused with an amused lilt, “𝔫𝔬𝔱… 𝔞 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔱𝔢.”

What? The word echoed weakly in Baby’s head as his vision finally sharpened. He blinked hard, once, twice - and then locked on you and the stranger.

You’d turned back now. But the damage was already done.

While Baby had been fighting to stay conscious, you’d left your drink unattended… next to someone you visibly didn’t trust.

Now? Now you were slumping into their chest, your body trembling, your breathing shallow. Sweat coated your forehead. The stranger was holding you up with far too much familiarity, grinning like he’d just won someone's turf.

Baby’s eyes darted between your face and the stranger’s, trying to process what he was seeing as he felt panic thrumming in his hollow chest that didn’t belong to him.

Feeling his confusion, Gwi-ma offered a "helpful" explanation, dripping with patronising amusement.

“𝔇𝔯𝔲𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤…” he purred. “𝔄𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔳𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔡…”

Drugged...? Baby blinked again, the unfamiliar word slamming against his mind like a brick. His fingers began to shake.

And then-

Something else began to ring in his ears. Not Gwi-ma. Something... crawling. Deeper and deeper, threading through his ears, getting closer to his eardrums before it began to-

Baby squeezed his eyes shut, raising his shoulders as if to block out the sounds trying to slither in. Shut up. He commanded himself. Shut up. Shut up.

He took a steadying breath, forced himself to look up again - just as the stranger began repositioning you, coaxing your limp form to your feet. They were preparing to walk you away if he were to guess.

“What happens after humans are drugged?” Baby asked quietly - aloud this time. His mind was too stuffed, too thick with static to hold a conversation in it anymore.

Gwi-ma yawned, but his flame burned hotter in Baby’s chest, a sure sign that the demon Lord was still interested.

“𝔈𝔵𝔢𝔠𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯… " he began, tone casual as he continued, "𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔴𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔟 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔤𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔢𝔵𝔲𝔡𝔢… 𝔦𝔱’𝔰 𝔞 𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔠𝔶.”

Baby said nothing, watching you stumble beside the stranger - your limbs uncooperative, your expression dazed. You were clearly trying to resist, but whatever was in your system made that impossible.

Gwi-ma chuckled, voice curling like smoke in Baby’s ears.

“𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫,” he continued, “𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪. 𝔐𝔢? 𝔄 𝔡𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔥.”

Then, in a tone both gentle and disturbingly intimate, “𝔚𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢… 𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶?”

The offer came laced with dark temptation, as if Gwi-ma had already sampled the perfectly ripened fruit… and was more than happy to share it with him now.

A… taste? The thought floated through Baby’s head like mist, barely his own.

He wasn’t even sure where he was anymore, where he ended and where Gwi-ma began. The taste of honey and warm bread filled his mouth, thick and golden, the way Gwi-ma remembered it. That taste of the “divine dish.”

His eyes - glazed and heavy-lidded - trailed after you with a predatory stillness as you and the stranger drew closer to the end of the bar. Closer to where Baby had hid.

“𝔜𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔰𝔰~” Gwi-ma purred in his mind, flame curling against his ribs, teasing the edges of his skin with a promise of satisfaction. “𝔉𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴… 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔱.”

Follow, Baby echoed numbly. His tongue flicked across his upper lip, where his tusks had begun to emerge. He watched you through half-lidded eyes. “…an’ feasst…” He muttered the words aloud, voice slow and slurred.

The infernal fire in his chest, the one Gwi-ma had placed there in place of a soul, flared higher, as if it had sensed Baby's intent. It wanted to be fed. It wanted that taste.

And Baby… Baby was never one to complain about a soul. Like Abby, he wasn’t picky. But unlike Abby who devoured everything without question, Baby did learned to have preferences.

He didn’t like the syrupy taste of forced lust. Didn’t like the flavour of desperation mixed with self-loathing, of stolen affection and rotting desire.

And that was exactly what you and the stranger were now radiating.

Your sweet wave was soaked in fear and muddled confusion. The stranger’s wave wrapped around yours, sugary and noxiously thick. It clogged the air like mouldy perfume.

Baby involuntarily salivated, the energy so potent he could feel it, tasting it this time willingly.

I don’t want to.

But how would it taste?

Should I?

I hate it.

The thoughts clashed and crashed, muddled with Gwi-ma’s crackling encouragements, his laughter, his heat.

And in the middle of that inferno, cutting through the noise, came another voice. Cool. Quiet-

-Mystery.

Baby clung to it like a lifeline. He remembered that day.

He was still considered freshly turned demon even with his newly earned rank. Feasting on the soul of an old man. Mystery hadn’t stopped him - he’d just watched.

And when Baby finished, Mystery had simply said the soul tasted sour to him with squashy acceptance.

At the time, Baby didn’t care. But he listened. Mystery told him that having preferences would keep him from wandering too close to Gwi-ma’s fire.

Baby hadn’t understood what that meant. Not then. Not fully now. But the words had stuck.

And now, here he was - forced to taste the kind of soul he chose wasn't his favorite one. The same flavour Gwi-ma was luring him back to.

Baby shuddered. Even the phantom taste in his mouth shouldn’t be that good. And that realisation alone grounded him. Snapped him just far enough out of Gwi-ma’s allure to reassert control.

The human skin pulled taut, disguising his demonic features. His claws retracted with his teeth dulling bit by bit. Even so, he could still taste it - that growing sourness at the edge of the sweetness.

But now, he was awake enough to see the consequences of what it meant to follow you.

If he let you go… yes, he’d get a taste. The divine dish. The rare flavour Gwi-ma praised.

But it would tear you apart. Your psyche would no doubt fracture.

Which means… the company would assign us a new manager. And Baby? He sure as fuck wasn’t going to get familiar with a new meddling human.

He didn’t have the time. Or the patience. Or the tolerance for some fresh-faced idiot trying to “understand” him.

With gritted teeth, Baby took a deep, sharp breath - letting the fire in his chest flare hot, burning through the temptation. His claws scraped across the polished wood of the bar as he moved, dragging long scratches in his wake. He forced his hands to his sides, stepping forward, out from the shadowed corner and into the light.

Gwi-ma’s confusion lasted only a moment. Then he laughed, crackling with delight.

The pressure in Baby’s mind loosened. Enough for him to breathe. To move more easily.

And so, Baby's steps became softer.

As he approached, the dark corner he’d been seated in seemed to stretch with him, his shadow dragging that darkness along behind. It crawled beneath his feet, twisting and curling, following him like smoke.

It stopped just a few feet ahead.

You were leaning against the stranger’s chest now. Face slack. Dazed. The stranger’s flush was too deep for alcohol. Baby could feel it. That sticky thrill of anticipation.

Sickening.

Baby didn’t hesitate. With one more step, he was close enough to slip his arm around your waist and pulled you easily to his side, making the stranger stumble in shock.

Before the stranger could even process what happened, Baby’s fringe-shadowed face tilted just enough to let his cold eyes settle on him.

Without thinking about it, Baby let his aura slither outward, coiling around the human’s soul and dragging it into the shadow beneath his feet.

The stranger was pulled forward, tripping on nothing and dropping to his knees with a grunt, forced down by pressure he couldn’t see, kneeling before Baby, who stood tall and utterly composed, holding you steady against his side.

The human’s expression flickered from fear to flushed embarrassment, then fury. They opened their mouth-

Baby’s nose twitched in disgust at the stench of their breath.

Before a single word could escape, a long, clawed hand shot out from the shadows behind Baby and clamped over the man’s mouth. Inky black, unnaturally long-fingered - it silenced them instantly.

The stranger’s eyes went wide with panic. Baby didn’t even blink. His expression remained cool, almost bored, as your shallow breathing hit his shoulder. You pressed your face into his jacket, hands trembling as they clutched his arm, shielding yourself from the overhead lights.

But Baby’s focus wasn’t on you. He was watching his dinner.

The human thrashed slightly, eyes darting around for help that wouldn’t come. Shadows licked at the edge of his vision, turning the bar’s warm glow into a surreal, warped tunnel. To his human mind, the lights dimmed. Shapes melted. The world tilted sideways.

And then his eyes squeezed shut - no doubt splitting from the dissonance of trying to perceive what wasn’t meant for him to see.

Baby smirked. His sharp canines glinted under the lights.

With a wet dragging sound, the shadow-hand yanked the human backwards, deeper into the dark. He vanished past Baby’s side, disappearing into the corner from which the demon had emerged, where he'd be patiently kept, until Baby was ready to eat. After, of course, he handed you off to one of his idiots.

Stepping forward, Baby crossed the edge of the mirrored wall, its illusion dropping behind him like ash, making it seem to any onlookers like he had simply emerged from the dim recesses of the bar with you in tow.

Now visible in the main room, Baby’s face smoothed into an easy, pleasant smile. The predator’s edge vanished, buried under a well-practiced charm as he casually scanned the crowd for one of his brothers that he could dump you onto so he could deal with his dinner and hopefully use you as a very valid excuse for everyone to get the hell out of this Hell 2.0 earlier.

Courtesy of the stranger, of course~

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distuff · 27 days ago

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AUTHOR!!!

First of all, hi how are you? Don't forget to rest and drink water

Second of all, i already read the baby "apology" and i really want to write a part 2 after seeing you say you won't write a part 2 in an another ask.

Can i please please pleaseee write a part 2? I'll tag you, i promise.

(Sorry if i sound overwhelming, my mind is bombed with ideas)

Ps. But i won't write it now since i have family event going on

KHAHAHAHA!!

Love the enthusiasm~ Sure thing yuchishi, feel free to let your imagination run wild and fingers type away !

Just as ya already said, simply tag the original story and mhe so I can then reblog it and add it as the "Potential continuation" to the original story.

Also how could ya even thought u were coming off as "overwhelming"- I like to call this excitement if anything ! Not to mention I'm also curious to see my readers work's inspired by my stories ￣▽￣

No rush readershi, no rush. Don't forget writing is supposed to be fun not forced ! I don't expect ya to write it within seconds lol

Have a great day, drink wOther too and don't stress !

#Ask

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distuff · 28 days ago

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I’ve been thinking of something recently, and while I know you’ve said in the past that you want reader to be left up to interpretation, I’m more curious on Baby’s (and maybe the other’s) reaction solely for this: How would Baby react (and even the others since they, or at least Romance, also begins feeding on reader’s soul and she’s around them quite a bit) if something worse than Gwi-Ma (like something more ancient and powerful) were to attach itself to reader, almost poisoning the Honmoom around her. I don’t know, I’ve been listening to the Magnus Archives again and since I’m hyper fixating on both media, I can’t help but to make a little crossover in my head. I’m not sure you even heard of the podcast before, but it’s a supernatural story podcast where there are entities called Fear, whom have always been around since, you know, they’re the living embodiment/are the fears of mankind that cause people’s lives to be miserable and tragic. So, I can’t help but think what if one of the Fears, maybe The Lonely since Baby thought that reader must have been lonely for sticking by him constantly, marked her to later force her to become its avatar to do its bidding or whatever. Could be very interesting!!

Hello there my curious readershi !

Aye ! I've read ur previous message where you've clarified this being a general ask

No worry readershi ! Ur not askin' mhe how the reader would react (which I cannot talk for my readers) but how the boyz would react or the versions of MY boyz lol, which I'm all too happy to provide!

To be completely honest that's a VERY interesante idea which I don't mind explorin'!

As you've guessed I'm not familiar with that podcast so I had to go full study mode and analyse these entities of fear to better understand em and I came to these conclusions:

Entities (or Fears from now on) manifest as objects, natural phenomena, or as a distorted human that feeds off of whatever fear they represent HW ! A human (reader) can become their "Avatar" as u said, either through ritual or consensual acceptance of the entity. From whot I've found, the entity itself does not possess the humans, instead, the affected human either:

a) willingly embrace the entity which is due to finding some kind of comfort, power, or purpose in aligning with it.

b) undergo some extreme, transformative processes where the human must psychological surrender (give up) for them to become the avatar

This would mean the reader (MC from now) had to:

a) willingly accept either of the fears due to smth or b) got so affected by the fear, gave up and let it consume them, letting the MC be a hollow shell of themselves in a way.

In either cases, the MC's honmoon would, as you said, become not poisoned but overwhelmed by that one singular fear that the MC becomes the avatar of.

Now, lets take the MC from that Baby story ur referring to (-> This) and use ur suggestion of the fear, "The Lonely" (fear of isolation, of being completely cut off and alone or disconnected from the rest of society) which essentially amplifies what MC based on your interpretation already felt during the story where they become numb, gradually forgetting about everything they know including the boyz who as demons wouldn't be affected like humans would be if in their presence.

OOO

NOW. - Note. In no way am I stating these are the canon reactions. I may be trying to remain canon as much as possible, but with little to no information, there are multiple interpretations one can make about SAJA's characteristics. These are just mine.

! IF I got smtg wrong in terms of the entities pls correct mhe so I can quickly change the reactions, arigatou~

= How would the boyz react to MC who became the Avatar of the Lonely =

-> Possible continuation of this story

MYSTERY SAjA:

-> Immediate curiosity. That was his first reaction. How and why? He didn’t care that the MC’s honmoon no longer gave off anything but dull numbness. If anything, that made it even more intriguing—a new flavour, one amplified by an ancient force. Of course he’d want a taste!

-> As the oldest demon in the group, Mystery knew of the entities. He’d read every scripture, pestered Gwi-ma with endless questions, and gathered as much knowledge as centuries allowed. Yet he always knew there was more. Now, thanks to the MC, he had a living, breathing subject to observe. His mind was already bursting with questions, each one more eager than the last to be answered. And he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

JINU SAJA:

-> Jinu had never heard of the entities—and frankly, didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the MC’s sudden aloof attitude, and the fact that they just left without a word. Did they realise he’d now have to beg Baby to release some public statement about the breakup? Sit through hours of PR scolding since he was the one who said, "No drama will come out of this”?

-> He’d pace around the room, muttering under his breath, already mentally rewriting the plans and calculating damage control strategies. Fixing the mess the MC left behind was priority one. As for the reason behind their change? Mystery could waste his time on that. Jinu had a reputation to manage and a resurfacing migraine to worry about.

ROMANCE SAJA:

-> Romance didn’t care much for the change in the MC’s soul either. He’d met plenty of humans willingly feeding him their souls. The MC wasn’t special.

-> What he did care about was the MC’s appearance. The sickly pale complexion? The dark under-eyes? The way they looked one blink away from collapsing? Disgusted, he’d visibly recoil before dragging the MC off for an emergency spa day and makeover. They’d become his porcelain doll, he could pamper and preen with all the latest fashion trends and hairstyles, he'll then use on himself if he liked the result. MC would go from fragile doll to showroom mannequin.

-> The only moment of pause would come when he tilted his head, furrowed his brows, and asked, “…Do they need to be still fed?”

ABBY SAJA:

-> Abby was the only one who truly didn’t care. He blinked at the MC’s condition, shrugged, and went back to whatever he was doing.

-> The numbness in their honmoon? Barely a blip. They felt like a ghost, and Abby wasn’t someone who paid much attention to the feelings resonance in the waves anyway. You really thought he’d suddenly sit upright in alarm just because the human Baby had been coupling with started giving off nothing? Not likely.

BABY SAJA:

-> Like Mystery, Baby found himself curious. The MC’s bland, tasteless soul and indifferent demeanor weren’t just 180 from their bubbly personality; it was new. And Baby hated the mundane, so this was a breath of fresh air. He sought Mystery out with that familiar flicker of intrigue to get answers.

-> When he found out the MC had been targeted by another ancient entity—one like them—he cracked up laughing. Full wheezing, head-thrown-back laughter. How unlucky could one human get? He shook his head with a sigh of relief. Either the MC stayed, and their soul was dead enough for him not to feel anything, or they left, and he’d be free. Win-win.

-> Still, it would be a lie to say his jaw didn’t clench. The sheer weakness of it—the way the MC just let themselves get consumed by something born of human irrationality—it grated on him. They rolled over and submitted to that? That? He’d thought, given time, they might grow into someone Baby would enjoy interacting with. But no matter. Baby wasn’t their caretaker. If they wanted to crumble under their own instincts and fears, then so be it. He was just the unwilling spectator in this slow, dry tragic comedy of theirs.

#ask #thoughts #kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #the magnus archives

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distuff · 28 days ago

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general: do u think demons can fall ill? 😣

very little context to this but like, do u think they can? or sustain injuries that don’t heal immediately?

Oiya there readershi !

Based on that emo I believe u don't enjoy being sick x,D ? But no worry about the context ! This is a straightforward Q so there ain't no need for more 🍿

Aah, well, based on la MOI versions lol Def can't fall ill as humans do.

Considerin' they're technically dead with Gwi-ma's flames fuelin' em (in mY ver of the boyz) what I can imagine are 2 "illnesses"

= Can Demons fall Ill? =

Illness No 1: Gwi-ma bein' a moody arse.

If the boyz disobey or somehow offend the Demon Lord, he will manipulate the flame within their bodies. He either intensifies it, causing them to suffer high-fever symptoms—profuse sweating and laboured breathing. OR suppresses the flame, plunging them into severe cold. In that state, they shiver uncontrollably and desperately seek warmth.

The latter is the most humiliating punishment, as it leaves the demons crawling after Gwi-ma’s scorching flames, practically begging for some warmth.

Illness No 2: Improper Feeding

This occurs when a demon fails to consume a human soul at the required time. The result? Delirium sets in, and they enter a berserker-like state—completely frenzied, and hunting for prey to devour whole. If the hunger persists for too long, they may even turn cannibalistic.

OOO

Bonus Illness No. 3: Phantom Sickness

In this condition, the demons begin to mirror the symptoms of a sick human that they can feel through their honmoon. Such human is 100 avoided by the demons as they reek of decay. A sick soul is essentially rot in their eyes—repulsive, contaminated, and unfit for consumption.

#ask #thoughts #kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys

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distuff · 29 days ago

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How would reader react if she finds out the real reason Baby accepted their confession/why he began “dating” her? I don’t know how this happen, but I imagine it happening after the Idol Awards where the boys get defeated by the Hunters and Rumi somehow found out about her through Jinu, so went to speak to reader. Or maybe she overhears it or something. I like to think here Baby did develop some form of feelings for her, but convinced himself it was only because she benefited him or something

Aaah, my dear readershi~

It's always a pleasure to read the thoughts and ideas of those who read my story. It means as your author I'm doing my job !

Now onto your ask:

Readershi I'm not "The Reader". The reader is either you or the ver of the reader you would like to see in these stories, so I can't answer for you.

But if you believe and feel that that's how the reader would react and that Baby did developed feelings at some point that I don't see why you would need my confirmation (￣▽￣)

Your interpration is much more important in terms of my stories than mine. That's why I leave my stories and few things vague so you guys can fill it up for yourself. I never state things, I only describe them, the rest is up to ya !

I said this to another reader of mine, but please feel free to write how you believe this story may have continued or ended. Just tag me so I reblog it and say smth along the lines of, "Possible continuation from one of my readers perspectives" Pls don't feel scared to share your ideas w mhe and the Saja boyz fandom ! Based on your comment, you truly have rich imagination reader~

#comment

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distuff · 29 days ago

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OH MY GOSH THE LATEST WRITING THING YOU DID FOR BABY?? IVE NEVER BEEN MORE INVESTED. WILL U EVER DO A PT 2 WHERE HE APOLOGIZES??:O /GEN /NOPRESSURE

KAHAHAHAHA!!

Your energetic comment is a true blessin' readershi ~ ( ´ ▽ ` )/ Arigatou for sharin' your thoughts w mhe about that story, I'm happy to read you've liked it this much (And honestly a bit surprised-).

But unfortunately there won't be any PT II (￣▽￣*)ゞ I make my stories vague and end in a way where you guys are able to fill in the blanks.

I'll tell ya whot though. If you would like, I'm givin' ya full premission to write how you think this story would continue based on your understanding of the Boyz and ur own ideas!

If ya do so then tag mhe so I can repost it as my readershis spin off following the events of the Baby story ur refering to !

#comment

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distuff · 29 days ago

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no word of a lie i LOVE how you characterize the saja boys! that demonic undercurrent that we didnt get much of in the film is 🤌

just wanted to stop by and say that i think your version of Mystery would be super interested in that tv show How It's Made

been in my head and i just wanted to share

😊

Hola my briliant readershi !!

I would like to first thank you dearly !! I'm truly overjoyed you have enjoyed yourself this much readershi !! (＾▽＾) Ik, ik I feel the same. These guys have so much potential w them being demons and all ! I can't just not take the opportunity lol So I'm glad I'm not the only one enjoyin' it (ノ= ⩊ = )ノ

And oh...my.... Gwi-ma- I looked it up and let mhe tell ya that boi would binge that series and crave more afterwards with more questions that his mind cooked up! (Bet he would buy the studio and make 'em work over time too lol) Safe to say all four of them would have to somehow managed to tear him from the couch to go and go practice or for the mandatory reality shows khahahaha! Love that. In the future if I'll ever mention this show I'll link this ask!

Thank you for sharin' reader~

#comment

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distuff · 29 days ago

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Not sure what your requirements for a general ask are or if you’ve answered this already, but I was wondering what your personal demon lore headcanons were?

I read through your whole masterlist and noticed that you write about the boys sensing the readers personal honmoon energy/signature and feeding off of it without consuming the whole soul, so I was wondering what you think the situation is?

Love your writing and can’t wait to see more!

OYa there my curious readershi ~

No worries ! Thanks to ya I decided to specify in my request post whot I mean by general (Basically, Qs regarding the stories or my thoughts about the characters or about my writing).

Also, hope ya enjoyed all the stories readershi ! I'm truly honoured that you actually got this invested (/ω＼)

NOW Onto the Qs !!

Well in terms of the headcanon I answered them in these as theses readers had more focused Qs:

-> Demon rank + Demon powers

-> Demon eyes

-> SAJA's Human past / Demon character

-> Crimson honmoon

-> Saja's impression of each other (Human/ Demon ver.)

Note. I believe that's all- if you want to check for yourself than please search #thoughts on my tumblr page (yes, even the hashtag)

-> If there are any other Qs that you may have in regards to my headcanon, pls don't hesitate to ask 'em! I'll do my best to explain my thoughts to you readershi ! (▔∀▔).

But pls remember that I leave these things vague so you could fill em up yourself. I always love readin' my readers interpretations of my works !

2. Second Answer:

To make it easier to imagine... think of a big bottle of wOther that you'll take occasional sip from when you're thirsty until it eventually gets empty.

In other words, the boyz are just taking small “sips” from the reader’s honmoon, where they only sooth the hunger for a couple of days. This gives them more time to focus on the mission.

Even if fully consuming a soul would’ve kept them sated for a month, this bit came with set of complications. Hunting down a human, making them feel whatever feelin' each boi wants to feed on, and then finally devouring the soul. Easier said than done. Especially now since the humans who recognised them don't allowed them the opening they need to began their hunt. Instead they scream and book it towards them with tears in their eyes. And just like that, the hunters became the hunted.

#ask #thoguhts

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distuff · 29 days ago

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Generallllllll

what’s your headcanons of the relationships between the saja boys? baby (in the new fic). said he upset that Jinu was hiding smt…? Just like overall how do you see the boys view/dynamic with each other?

Ello my dear readershi !!

I'm honoured you're curious about that ( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝

Lucky for ya, I've already answered that here -> Saja's impression of each other (Human/ Demon ver.)

HW, if there are still some Qs regarding my thoughts about their dynamic you may be curious about, pls don't be shy to reach out ! I always enjoy talin' to you guys (o´∀`o)

#ask

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distuff · 29 days ago

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general: for the boys, who do you think is the most “emotionally sensitive”? Demons are generally uncaring as they have no soul, but you mentioned that Baby could sort of “reflect” the emotions the reader “projects”, like her happiness causing him to sort of smile? So who do you think, ranking order, would be most easily influenced (in a way) to readers emotions? (does this ask make sense?? 😭)

Olla my cute readershi !! ☀️

LMAO!! *wheezes / chokes

Wait I can't- gimme a moment. Haaah.

Ur cute, honestly readershi! No worry I understood ya perfectly !

Firstly, I have to praise ya for noting that smol instant down ! It always makes mhe happy to read that my readers are readin my works so carefully ~

Note. These are my thoughts and in no way am I claiming this is the canon or the truth. This is not an analysis post either. If you're not my reader I don't think ya will understand much BUUT it can be still fun to read lol.

Now onto the rankings!

Who is the most and least likely to get influenced by the honmoon?

Most

Romance -> let's it flow through him for the bliss of it and uses it to better manipulate his prey while hunting. Dare I say he is fully embracing it and enjoying himself?

Baby -> tries to fight it but can't. He blames his past self who thought It would be a genius idea to sell off his soul with his past memories for the price of one ! All just to leave his head empty? Didn't really worked out, now did it? The emptiness allowed for Gwi-ma to use his head as his private hub and for him to have no control over his body as it eager consumes any feeling the humans gave him to feed the insatiable fire inside of him.

Jinu -> he misses feeling anything. So, he uses the feelings emitting from the honmoon to retain his memories of his human life to at least remember the phantom feeling he once felt by himself. This is why he doesn't enjoys feeding on souls as most of the time it's fear, wrath or deep sadness which highlight the memories Jinu is most bitter about.

Mystery -> over the years he had learned through multiple experiments how to not let the honmoon affect him as much. Although there are times where he can't help the clench of his fist, twitch of a finger or roll of a shoulders.

Abby -> the boi is thick headed where he basically just look pasts those feelings or rather the feelings just bounce off of him as he doesn't pay attention to them. Mystery had once asked how is he able to ignore the feelings from the honmoon, and all Abby did was blinked owllishly, and ask back, "That thing can feel?" Safe to say Mystery gave up then and there.

#ask #thoughts #kpdh #kpop demon hunters #saja boys

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distuff · 1 month ago

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ahhhh thank you for writing such beautiful work...

baby when the reader gets pissed at him for saying something mean during a fight, so she ignores him? AND not only ignores him but chooses to spend an abnormal amount of time with Jinu/any other (Jinu cause the tiger and the bird) saja boy to rant about how obnoxious baby is and stubbornly refuses to interact with baby? and baby just going nuts because what do you mean he's getting ignored? (and maybe abby and romance trying to help him figure out why reader is pissed and get him to swallow his pride and apolgize?)

Answer: Oh my- I actually had fun exploring this dynamic ngl khahaha! You my dear readershi are also gettin' a renewed author (la mOi, obviously) who is more confident in my vers of the boyz. Gotta thank all the support (my beloved anons/ askers, taggers ( I see you @sleepylion ! ), commenters and even those who are silent enjoyers ) who showed support on stories I was unsure of. sO ! Pls, enjoy~ ( = ⩊ = )

Note. Please ! Do not take anything here seriously. These are my versions of the boyz where I'm tryin' to figure out their character through these prompts and make em react as canon as possible. Nothing in here is aimed at anyone just a faceless MC whose traits are created around the prompt. Arigatou ( _ _)人

📍Requests: Please check HERE

📌 POTENTIAL CONTINUATIONS FROM MY DARLINGS + Yuichi-cat

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby SAJA: Apology?

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: female

It was a rainy night. The rain tapped gently against the windows, and dark clouds covered what few stars were ever visible—even on clear nights.

Their studio sat on the highest floor, close to the heavens, yet Jinu could rarely see more than two faint stars, even on a good day.

The only “stars” around were the distant lights from neighbouring buildings, all of them standing a few floors lower than the building their company had chosen for them.

It always reminded Jinu of a story Mystery had once told him—something about humans trying to build a spiralling tower to reach the heavens, only to be cursed by the very god they were climbing toward to.

Babilion? Bubilion? Tower of Bebil? He couldn’t remember the name. Never cared to. It was the idea that stuck with him.

Seems like that desire never left them, he always thought. Whether humans realised it or not, they always craved more.

Speaking of humans and their insatiable wants—

"Can you believe that smug—ugh!"

Jinu turned slowly from his desk to face you. You were pacing his room, eyebrows furrowed, hands flailing like you were about to strangle someone.

He let out a soft sigh and dropped the pen in his hand, casually covering the card he’d been working on. A loud, pink bird with spindly legs danced beneath the text Let’s Get Flocked Up!!—whatever that meant. It looked like a poorly drawn phoenix in his opinion.

He’d ask the phone to identify the bird, but for some reason you decided he was good for whatever conversation you were trying to have with him.

Jinu would shrug your words off and let you talk to yourself in hopes of you having some devine realisation, but he couldn’t risk drawing your attention to what he was writing. That would lead to questions. And Jinu was terrible at dodging questions. Which would only made him more suspicious.

Just thinking about Mystery giving him signs he was beginning to suspect Jinu of something made him wince.

So instead of kicking you out—which would only make things worse—jumping out the window, which wouldn’t solve anything—or trying to change the subject, which your expression made clear you weren’t going to let happen, Jinu gave in.

He dropped his arm over the card and leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking over to you with resigned sigh.

"Alright, I bite. What did you do?" he asked flatly. He didn’t even bother pretending to care.

Where were Romance or Abby when he needed them? What possessed you to bring this kind of thing to him? Not questions he voiced, of course. The carpet was white, and he had no intention of getting blood on it. No, thank you.

That, he quickly realised, was also the wrong question to ask.

You stopped pacing and turned to him slowly, glare sharp enough to make him consider jumping out of the window did actually sounded quiet helpful for this situation.

If human looks could kill demons, Jinu was pretty sure he’d be dead already. Moments like these reminded him why he appreciated your honmoon wave being bright crimson for more than easy snack. At least it didn't tried burning him while you were clearly distress.

And under all that curled one single feeling that most demon's would salivate at.

Hurt.

Funny, he thought dryly, how wrath is just crushed expectation throwing a tantrum.

You pointed at yourself, incredulous. “Me?” you repeated. “Me?! What I did—? I didn’t do anything!” you shouted, and Jinu winced, pressing his hand to his left ear.

You were off again, pacing as your frustration and sadness poured out.

“It’s him who can’t see past himself! He can’t shut up long enough to listen or—or understand that what he says hurts!”

Your voice cracked as your frustration pushed through. “It’s like I don’t even exist to him. Like I’m just… here. I expect something. Anything to show I’m not the only one who cares in this relationship!”

Your eyes were starting to glaze over. The shine of unshed tears formed as your honmoon line pulsed with that bitter sadness Jinu hated to taste but his body craved anyway.

Too bad he already ate tonight. No excuse to feed off you now.

Which meant, unfortunately, he had to listen.

He sighed again, bracing himself, and opened his mouth—fully prepared to be the voice of reason you’d ignore anyway, in the hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d use your last brain cell to hear what he had to say.

"Alright," he said calmly, his voice instantly drawing your attention. You stopped pacing, staring at him with that same look—expecting something. Jinu had to stop himself from shaking his head.

Expectations, were formed around the false believes one had about themself, fueled by the fear of unknown, they only built blueprints for reactions, and always ended in disappointment. Humans never learn, he thought with a quiet sigh. Funny how becoming a demon gave him the clarity to spot flaws he never noticed as a human—flaws now repeating in front of him like clockwork.

It was as if the behaviour had been coded into the human DNA.

No matter. Lifting his head—which he hadn’t realised had dipped—Jinu met your eyes. You’d calmed enough to sit on the edge of his bed, your attention fixed solely on him.

"I mean, this might sound crazy," Jinu began, his tone light as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "But did you consider—just maybe—that Baby is a demon?" His hands gestured to you like he was making a groundbreaking point, his face marked by exaggerated innocence.

The sound of Tiger rising from where he’d been lying beside the bed draw both yours and his attention to the spirit—giving you a pause from the conversation as the two of you watched it quietly prowling over to you with steady steps.

Its amber eyes didn’t blink as he stared at you—curious, and clearly reading the cocktail of emotion your body radiated. That, and shielding Jinu from your honmoon wave to give him a moment to breathe.

Magpie, on the other hand, looked wholly unimpressed. It blinked slowly between the two of you, flicking its head toward Jinu as if to say, Want a shovel to dig your grave deeper?

Jinu would have a full blown conversation with that ungrateful chicken if his attention wasn't stolen by your following words.

"Yeah, and?" you replied flatly, starting to pat Tiger without looking at Jinu. The spirit stood still, purring faintly, though it didn’t break his stare.

It was a stupid question. Jinu was going to say that aloud—but thankfully your voice cut through before he could.

"You're also a demon, and you're showing a clear interest in Rumi-nim." You met his eyes with a deadpan stare that made his spine tighten. His gaze flicked, involuntarily, toward the greeting card on the desk. Don’t look at it, don’t look at it, don’t look at it!

"I—I mean, as a fellow idol, it’s natural to be... cordial—"

But again, you cut him off, turning away as you focused on Tiger. Jinu stiffened, eyes falling on Magpie who continued preening its feathers with Tiger’s stolen hat, completely ignoring his discomfort.

"As a 'fellow idol', you owe her polite interactions and the occasional mention on your lives," you said, eyes locking with his again. "You’re doing more than that."

Jinu felt cornered. Accused of something he couldn’t explain to you. His brows knit as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"Alright. And if I am—what of it? Doesn’t change how Baby behaves, does it?" His voice was flat.

He regretted it the moment the words left his mouth.

You froze mid-pat, inhaling sharply. Your posture turned rigid—but thankfully, being in contact with Tiger meant you were also being bathed in his calming aura. Instead of shouting or throwing something, you spoke through a strained breath,

"It does. If you can act like Rumi-nim matters, then so can Baby."

Jinu had to resist the urge to groan, roll his eyes, and laugh into his palm. Of course. Of course. That was how you saw it.

You thought he was being “attentive.” You assumed that meant some grand revelation. Maybe you thought his "heart" was changing, that he was maybe starting to think differently about humans.

But no—he was just using Rumi. She was a means to an end: the path to reclaiming his soul from Gwi-ma. If satisfying the Demon King meant playing the role of a human idol—luring in as many souls as possible with the hope that it might make the King more willing to return his one meek, pitiful soul—then so be it.

And yet, just the thought of what Rumi might feel—what her soul line would pulse with if she ever found out—made his hollow chest tighten as he wondered what emotion she'll willingly feed him once she finds out what his real goal was.

It wasn't even a betrayal… it was Rumi's naive nature to trust something with no soul. Just like you with Baby... Rumi had created unrealistic expectations of him too.

Still, none of this was something he could say to you. He couldn’t tell you that he wasn’t any better than Baby.

The fact that you even knew they were demons was already crossing a line. They couldn’t offer you anything more than this simply because it could jeopardize what they have build.

Humans were fickle like that.

With a long, drawn-out sigh, Jinu let his hand settle over his mouth, trying to string together a sentence that would sound coherent enough to explain the situation from Baby's point of view.

Jinu's eyes flicked to you as you continued to pat Tiger, who still stood unmoving at your side. Both spirit animals focused on him—Tiger clearly anticipating the greeting card meant for Rumi, while Magpie looked far too smug for Jinu’s liking.

"How to put it..." Jinu muttered, gesturing for Tiger to come closer. The spirit prowled forward with deliberate slowness, unblinking eyes locked on him. Magpie, in contrast, glided down next to you, probably in some noble attempt to keep your nerves from fraying any further.

You trailed your eyes after Tiger, the stress and fatigue bleeding into your gaze, but then you gently started to trace a finger down Magpie’s spine. Jinu noticed that at least the tightness in your shoulders eased slightly.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what he said,” Jinu admitted as he folded the greeting card, keeping his tone even. “But there’s a high possibility that he just… bluntly said what he though at the time.”

He pressed his lips together. Tiger tilted his massive head to the side, bulbous eyes looking through him, clearly thinking: You're a fool

Not like Jinu needed reminding that he was probably making things worse. But sue him—he didn’t know what you expected him to say.

If he lied, you’d just march back to Baby, and that little bastard would crush all the soft hope Jinu managed to build with some sugary words. So all he could really do was try to soften the truth on Baby’s behalf.

Why can’t she go to Romance or Abby~ he whined internally, rolling his eyes as he turned, greeting card in hand.

With a flick of his wrist, he offered it to Tiger, who obligingly opened his mouth and rolled out his tongue. Jinu placed the folded card atop it with a sigh. No point hiding what you were clearly already aware of. Hopefully, you had some sense to keep it to yourself.

He gave you a sidelong, sceptical look, but it fall off when he caught the quiet way your body had curled in on itself. You were gently stroking Magpie’s feathers, your expression unreadable, but distant.

Jinu exhaled, placing a hand under Tiger’s jaw and gently guiding it shut, patting twice to signal the spirit to deliver the card to the purple-haired huntress. Then he turned back to you with a bit more urgency in his voice.

“Alright then. What do you want Baby to do?”

Maybe—maybe—he could actually get the brat to play along for once, just to calm you down. ...Maybe.

“Apology,” you said flatly, your eyes locking with his, hard as steel.

Jinu blinked.

And then— —he lost it.

He toppled sideways with a choked wheeze, clutching his stomach as laughter wracked his frame. Just the image of Baby apologising was absurd. Utterly beyond imagination.

Handing a cat a Bible and asking it to lead Sunday mass had higher success rate than Baby apologising. The young demon would no doubt look at him like he’d grown three heads before confidently diagnosing him as clinically insane.

As Jinu laughed himself breathless, he didn’t even register Tiger and Magpie slinking away. What he did notice was your now-throbbing honmoon wave, no longer behind the barrier, and radiating frustration.

Honestly, he was just impressed you were still this emotionally attached to the SAJA after what Baby had put you through. Wiping an invisible tear from his eye, Jinu sat up and met your glare head-on.

Arms crossed, expression locked down tight—you were not amused.

“Mind explaining what’s so funny about that?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

He opened his mouth—and an involuntary snort escaped. Seeing your irritation bubble, he straightened quickly and cleared his throat.

“Well... you see,” he began, in the universal tone of a man about to say something you wouldn’t like.

“Uh-huh,” you prompted flatly.

“Apologising means the person believes they did something wrong,” Jinu continued, choosing his words carefully. “And I can very confidently tell you that Baby—”

- - -

“I don’t even know what I did wrong,” Baby groaned, fisting his hair as he stared down at the dark carpet of his room like it held all the answers to this frustrating and frankly uncalled for situation.

The constant pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows wasn’t helping. It only made Baby’s fingers twitch harder, itching to tear into something that would resist—something he could press against until it ripped.

Irritation, mixed with fury? Check. But only because you, for some incomprehensible reason, had to go and get upset over words. Characters.

Honest to Gwi-ma—invisible, untouchable things that just poured out of someone’s mouth. How could anyone get hurt by that? If you wanted pain, Baby could show you exactly what he did to humans who fought back during his feeding.

And yet... there was bitterness too. A hollow ache clinging under his skin. It made his jaw itch to sink into your honmoon and just roll in it.

He didn’t mind emotions—he wasn’t a picky eater—but fury? That tasted stale. Always just a layer for hurt, and hurt was the sweetly bitter flavour he never turned away from.

But when that hurt was tangled with anger, it tasted like a dessert coated in mould.

And now, with you still inside the apartment—your honmoon wave loud and heavy—it was impossible to ignore. He couldn’t take it anymore. So he dragged the closest brother of his with him to his room: Romance.

As they passed Abby, the other had to be grabbed by Romance by the back of his shirt just like Baby did to him as he could hear Abby curiously ask, “Oh? Where we goin’?”

Now, the two of them were seated on the bed in Baby's room, listening as he explained what had happened—though “explaining” was generous.

More like pacing in circles and hissing between clenched teeth as he began mentally debating whether licking bleach would soothe the sting in his mouth or if petting your honmoon would be more effective albeit risky with the state you were in.

Kicking you out would only make things worse. He knew that much.

His eyes finally left the carpet when Romance let out a long sigh—the kind that sounded straight out of one of Mystery’s dramas, complete with the tone of a tired, exasperated mother. He crossed one leg over the other, that dreamy smile curling over his lips.

“Aah, one has to admire humans for their shameless displays of selfishness.”

Baby shot him a sceptical look, hands finally dropping from his tangled hair. Why didn't I gone to Mystery instead?

Before he could voice the thought, Romance continued, voice light and knowing. “But it’s easy to understand what your human wants, my sweet little junior.”

“Call me that again and I’ll put that vanishing ability of yours to the test—”

“Mm, always so charming,” Romance said, waving him off as he leaned back, supporting himself on his arms. He locked eyes with Baby and smirked. “She’s dissatisfied~ You’re not giving her what she wants. Touches. Attention. Acts that make her feel special.”

He fluttered his lashes dramatically. Baby rolled his eyes, straightened, and arched a brow.

“Not everyone can act like you, shitty senior.”

Romance beamed. “Not as good, but they can try!” he chirped, holding up a finger like he was announcing a divine truth.

Baby exhaled hard, shaking his head. Then both he and Romance looked to Abby, once the other spoke, “If it’s so much hassle, why’d you even bother starting something with her?” Abby tilted his head, expression completely genuine.

They stared and he blinked back at them with the slow confusion of a dog not understanding another creatures speech.

Romance bit his bottom lip, visibly entertained, and reached over to pat Abby on the head. Abby blinked, but let him.

Baby, however, just stared at his so called senior like he’d said the most ridiculous thing in all of world's history.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Baby said dryly, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe because Jinu told me to accept her confession?”

Abby raised a brow while Romance, now fussing with his hair, didn’t even look surprised. Of course he knew. He had a habit of sticking his nose where it didn’t belong—especially the first time Baby had brought you home.

Abby, meanwhile, had just treated you like a living chocolate fountain he could snack on whenever you were around.

“Since when do you listen to anyone?” Abby asked, genuinely baffled.

Romance snorted and sat up proudly with hands on his hips, satisfied with his perfectly fixed hair. “Don’t worry,” he said with a laugh. “Baby didn’t hit his head. He only agreed because Jinu promised he could skip seven shows of his choice.”

That made Abby let out a long, exaggerated “Aaaaaaah!”—right before freezing and clamping his mouth shut. His eyes flicked back to Baby, confused again.

When is he not confused? Baby thought, already bracing himself as Abby opened his mouth to ask another question.

“But that still doesn’t explain… why you’re tolerating it.”

That gave Baby pause. He blinked, caught off-guard. He hadn't expected that level of insight from Abby of all beings.

Romance, on the other hand, didn’t even look surprised. He simply turned his attention from his hair to Baby, eyes glinting with curiosity, waiting, alongside Abby, for his answer.

They looked like those humans from that movie they watched “Dumb and Dumber.” Fantastic.

Baby sighed. Why does it even matter? But he gave a blunt reply anyway.

“Her soul helps suppress my hunger. I figured if I’m being forced to play pretend, I might as well get something out of it.”

He’d noticed it early on—whenever you were near, the gnawing void in his chest dulled slightly, tricking his instincts into thinking it was getting a full meal.

There was also another benefit to this bravado. As long as you didn’t try comforting him with words when Gwi-ma turned his skull into a private arcade, your touch was... grounding.

Of course, none of that was something he’d ever admit to these two jackals. And yet, even with the bare scraps he’d given them, both Romance and Abby were already grinning like they’d cracked some forbidden code. Jackasses.

The look they exchanged told Baby everything: Silence was the only safe option around these two, truly.

Why can’t they be this creative with the mission? he thought, mildly annoyed as his body instinctively tensed. He leaned back, away from Abby, who now wore a smirk that practically screamed bait.

“Well, that makes sense,” Abby drawled, eyes still on Romance as if Baby wasn’t even there. “Baby needs a pacifier during the day to keep calm.”

Romance nodded sagely, finger pressed under his chin like he was seriously contemplating Abby's words rather than suppressing a grin.

“Pacifiers do have the ability to keep Baby's nasty little temper in check, mm?”

At that, Abby flashed his sharp canines with a pointed look, practically daring Baby to lunge.

Baby knew they could’ve easily been referring to that snivelling pile of human meat that never stopped crying—but the words could also be taken another way. One that he knew was the correct one. He could feel his human glamour fading just slightly. Faint demon markings crept along his cheekbones, his own fangs peeking out as his claws dug into his palms.

His lips, darker now with a lack of oxygen, parted as he exhaled. And then he spoke—voice low, gravelly, and deadly calm.

“If I could… without alerting those three bitches to where we are… I’d slash every inch of your body, bit by bit, scatter the pieces across Korea, and watch your head roll around trying to put yourself back together.”

Yet instead of getting the reaction he wanted, Baby watched with half-lidded eyes and an involuntary twitch in his brow as Romance let out a delighted coo. Hands clasped together, the older demon gazed at him as if Baby hadn’t just threatened someone ranked above him. Worse, Romance even went and stretch out his hand, finger aimed at Baby’s nose for a little boop, and chirped, “Cute.”

Baby’s eye twitched.

And to make matters worse, Abby—arms crossed, muscles bulging in that infuriating way he knew was deliberate—wore the smuggest grin as he added in a teasing tone, “Can’t bring yourself to get fully rid of me? You must truly love me. Oh, I can just feel how much you care for me! ” He let out an exaggerated wail, swiping an invisible tear from under one eye and clutching the wrong side of his chest—the side where a heart wouldn’t be, even if he were human.

“Alright then,” Baby growled lowly.

His glamour frayed further as he rolled up his sweater sleeves, a malicious grin cutting across his face. His small tusks peeked from under his top lip, canines gleaming, and purple flames began licking off his skin. The pressure in his skull surged as Gwi-ma stirred, laughing in pure euphoria, egging him on with a hungry rasp: “C̶̛̩͈̋͑̎̽̈́l̵̲̥̫͚̳̞̗͒̊̽͘͝a̷̯͕̲̰̖̟̦͊͝w̵̛̬̱̦̻̟͗̄̄̋͜s̴̢̞̺̮͖͇̽͋̍͆̈́̔̍͂ ̴͉̯͕̹̞͖͈̈́͐̿̓̍̏̾͒t̷̡̢͉̖̠̺̺̝͗͊̐͛͒͠͠h̴̲̼̞̥̲̖͍͒͗͑̽̕r̸̙̘̟͍̺̟̲̱̋͑͒̿̇̒̚ơ̸̬̿̌̍͋́͗ų̴̘̟̤́̓͌̍̓͗g̶̠̝͍͈̼̦͕͐͋̅̋̀̈́h̵̛͇͗̏͋̄̍̈́̕ ̷̬̯̯̲̞̐̔̿̓̍͘͝͠t̵̺̖̩̦̳͖̯̜̉̈́̅̈́̚h̴̰̬͈͚̠̲̋̈́͗̽́͘͠ͅe̵̢͚̞̦̱̘̅͒̾̒̿͛͐͑͜ ̶̢͍̗̖͇̺͌̅͊̽͛͌̚c̶̳̤̞͈̬̩̬̐̄͜h̷̼̜̳͓̦̳̙̤̿͐̓̋͠e̵͖̰̰̲̼͕̅́̑̓͒̚͜s̷̢̢̱͖̠͓̈́̎̐̿͝t̶̛̤̖̬̟̮͌͂͠͝͝—̵̢̥͕̦̤͇̖̘̀̓̓̍̇̀͛̚s̷̘̱̼̋̈́̏͛̏̔͂͘l̴̞̮̱̞̬̩̏̈́o̵̠͎̤̮̥̫̔̈́̇́͝w̶̛̮̼̺͓͚̄̀̆͋͘͝ͅ ̴͇͎͍̖͓̒̅́͊̔͝͝a̴͖͓̰̳̲̞̍̒̎͗͊̕͘͜n̶̩̯͓͛͝d̸̹̮̟̰̺̼͈̏̏̽̾̏̀̕ ̵̻̯̥̞̺̪̙́́͛̑̽͝p̵̬̘̖̳̥̐̈́͊̚̚ͅa̵̢̨͖͇͈̲͐̈́ͅi̸̘̲͎͓͇͐͗̇͋̔̓̍͝n̷̙̟̙̮͑̍̓̿͆̅́ͅf̴̘̯͔̳̺͓͚̐̈́̇́̾͘ū̵̘̬̠͎̫͇̔̿̚l̵̢̢̺͚̜͇̐̽̐̐̎͘ͅ!”

Visions flickered across Baby’s mind, dizzying flashes of how to use abelites he didn't even knew possible—and for a moment, his vision blurred as he shook his head to fight it off.

He barely registered Abby’s widening grin as the older demon cracked his neck, clearly eager for the brawl. But before either of them could move—

They froze.

The air didn’t grow heavy like it did when Mystery was done tolerating their idiocy. No, it grew light. Too light.

Disorientingly so, like a false calm before something sharp breaks through. Baby almost wanted to laugh and flip Gwi-ma the middle finger as he felt his Lord disappear with furies thrashing before leaving Baby's head empty.

Only Romances aura was capable of submerging the demon King. He may not know the real reason, but he has a theory. Unlike the others, Romance never flooded them with his demonic presence like Mystery.

He let it slither—wrap and squeeze. It wasn’t choking—it was holding, threatening to shatter them from the inside if they so much as twitched. Baby felt it keenly in the way his ribs ached and his core pulled taut. And judging by the way Abby’s eyes widened beside him, he felt it too.

It didn’t help that Romance was older than both of them. Which made the subtle restraint feel effortless—unavoidable.

Baby knew, logically, that Romance didn’t have the kind of power that could cancel their regeneration. But it didn’t matter. The illusion—the intoxication—was enough to press every instinct into submission. He let out a slow breath, reluctantly pulling the frayed edges of his human disguise back into place, a silent show of compliance.

Only then did Romance smile wider, bringing his hands together with a gentle clap before easing off. As the pressure lifted, both Baby and Abby exhaled sharply, shoulders loosening.

Their eyes met.

A silent nod passed between them. Later.

If Romance noticed, he chose to ignore it. After all, what came later wouldn’t be his problem. Instead, he steered the conversation back to its original course, locking his brilliant eyes onto Baby’s with a quiet sort of focus.

“So?” Romance asked, folding his hands over his crossed legs. A lock of hair curled against his cheek as he tilted his head, flawless as always, voice soft with curiosity. “What are you planning to do, then?”

Great question. A slow smirk curved across Baby’s lips as he cracked his knuckles.

Now that the banter cooled him down and the storm of your emotions from your wave was drowned out by Abby’s demonic aura—still pulsing faintly from when he’d nearly launched himself at Baby—his head was clearer than it had been in days.

“Easy. Kill ’em.” He said it flatly.

Sure, he’d lose his easy snack. The occasional grounding effect you gave him when Gwi-ma got especially insufferable. Those moments when you simply enjoyed yourself without demanding anything, letting him exist without expectation. Moments when your happiness spread through him, and he did enjoy himself—those would vanish too.

But in return, he’d get back something far more valuable: the freedom to just be himself.

No more forcing conversation. No more awkward attempts to explain things you could’ve asked about without sounding like a guilt-ridden martyr. And that constant, nagging feeling—like you were trying to make him feel bad for you.

How? Baby always wanted to ask. He didn’t feel anything unless you did first. And when you were caught in that swirling mess of insecurity and longing, it made him want nothing more than to rip your soul out and consume it just to silence the white noise in his head.

So yes—pros outweighed the cons. Any day of the week.

And hey, maybe you'd finally find someone who was your actual match.

His words had barely finished leaving his mouth before Abby choked on his saliva, then cackled hysterically—head thrown back, heels of his feet thudding on the floor. Romance winced, pressing a manicured hand to his chest as if personally wounded, eyes flicking to Baby’s deadpan expression.

“Please don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “Your kills are always so... messy.” His nose crinkled as he pulled a face of exaggerated distaste.

Baby crossed his arms and raised a brow at him. “Alright then. What should I do instead?” His tone was bored, but he was listening.

That was all it took. Romance perked up immediately, and just as Abby’s laughter began to taper off, they both blurted out two completely different responses at once:

“Suck ’em dry,” Abby grinned.

“Apologise,” Romance said at the exact same time.

Baby blinked, owlishly at first, then narrowed his eyes with growing scepticism—just as both Romance and Abby snapped their heads towards each other, startled.

For a brief moment, Baby swore the two of them were having a full telepathic conversation. Then, without a word, they nodded in perfect synchrony.

Romance turned back to him, casually, while Baby—still with arms crossed—had leaned down slightly, watching the pair with thinly veiled disbelief, scanning between them for any trace of logic. Naturally, he found none.

Romance shrugged. “Calm her down by apologising. Then devour her. No soul ever tastes good angry.”

Huh. Baby straightened up, expression easing as he nodded slowly. Romance had a point. Even if Baby wasn’t picky, it was common demonic knowledge that rage-flavoured souls only appealed to a rare few with weird palates.

Before he could open his mouth to agree, a soft click broke the moment.

The doorknob to his room twisted, the door creaking open. All three snapped their attention to it, wide-eyed—no doubt looking like startled hares caught in torchlight.

Baby didn’t know who to expect. But it definitely wasn’t Mystery, half-visible behind the slowly opening door.

He blinked. His spine snapped upright as his usually droopy eyes widened into doe-like. Romance, unfazed, lifted a hand in a pleasant wave. Abby grinned like a proud idiot for some reason.

While Baby continued to stare at Mystery as if the man didn’t live under the same roof, it was Romance who broke the silence.

“What are you doing here senior?” he asked, smiling, his tone laced with genuine curiosity.

Mystery stood motionless, one hand still on the doorknob. They couldn’t see his eyes, but Baby had the creeping suspicion the eldest had blinked once before speaking, voice as soft and chilling as ever.

“I was told to come... by him,” he replied coolly, raising two perfectly shaped fingers to point directly at Abby—who only grinned wider.

That snapped Baby out of his daze. He flinched slightly, turning sharply as Romance—seated next to Abby—did the same.

“Why?” Romance asked with a calm tilt of his brow, voicing what Baby had been about to bark out himself.

Abby looked far too pleased with himself, arms crossed over his chest like a smug lion. “Since Baby was being dramatic, it had to be important. So I figured Mystery would be perfect for solving it! While Baby was yapping and growling, I texted Mystery to come over.”

He said it like it was the most obvious, brilliant solution in the world.

Romance and Baby both gawked at him. Abby didn’t seem to notice. He turned back to Mystery—who remained standing in the doorway like a weathered statue—completely unreadable.

“What took you so long, old man?”

That was usually the kind of thing no one dared to say to Mystery—ranked as he was, not to mention his power—but Abby lacked the instinct for self-preservation. Always had.

Mystery, for his part, didn’t react in the slightest. He merely responded with a quiet, clinical jab, “Saw your name.”

Baby snorted, lips twitching into a grin. Romance chuckled softly behind his hand. Abby, oblivious, beamed.

“Ah! Still learning how to open the magical boxes in the phone?” he asked brightly, already launching into a pointless explanation. “You just gotta—”

Mystery stepped back without a word, shutting the door slowly.

That alone pulled Baby back into focus.

Wait. Abby might’ve actually been on to something.

And Mystery did have the most functioning brain cells out of anyone here. That alone made him worth listening to.

Baby stepped forward slightly, expression softening again, a rare earnestness in his voice. “Would Mystery-nim consider... having a moment still?”

For once, there was no sass or smugness behind it. Just a sincere question—he wanted to hear what his senior had to say.

A silence followed. Romance and Abby glanced between the two, waiting.

Mystery didn’t move right away. He remained still in the hallway, back to them. Baby couldn’t feel nervous, that was taken together with his soul by Gwi-ma. Baby could only stand quietly, watching, waiting for a respond to react to.

Finally, Mystery turned his head just enough to face him. Though his eyes were covered, his aura gave a brief flicker of contemplation. Then, he finally gave a short nod.

With a shift of his shoulders, Mystery stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He stood inside the room, saying nothing—but making it clear he was waiting for Baby to explain the issue.

Baby didn’t waste a second.

He launched back into the explanation—this time without the growls, or slipping into demonic dialect that made Romance and Abby squint or read his aura like a weathered text. Now, it was just words. Clear, sharp, and finally spoken with some composure.

Once the full story was out, the room fell quiet.

Mystery hadn’t moved from where he first stationed himself, still standing near the door. The only change was the tilt of his head—chin lowered as he absorbed Baby’s words in full silently but most importantly thoroughly.

The three waited, clearly too eager despite trying not to show it.

Finally, Mystery straightened. He turned his head towards Baby. The attention made his fingers twitched slightly, resisting the urge to clap like an overeager child. Instead, he sharpened, silent, listening with his full focus.

“Humans are needy creatures,” Mystery began in his cool, steady tone—echoing Romance’s earlier words—before continuing without pause. “You should have taken that into account before letting Jinu sway you.”

Ah. Baby’s eyes flicked to the side.

It wasn’t a reprimand, exactly—Mystery wasn’t one for scolding—but the truth stung all the same. That was the reminder. Baby had been just as selfish as you, and this? This was the cost of that.

Fair. His eyes dropped to the carpet, shoulders heavy as Mystery’s voice carried on, calm and unbothered.

“However,” he said, “she is not one to leave.”

That snapped Baby’s head up. Mystery continued, head tilting slightly, fringe shifting, though never revealing the sharp briliant eyes hidden behind. “So... even if the two of you had a mindless argument over a foolish disagreement—which, I agree, could’ve been handled more peacefully if she wasn't blinded by her lack of self-worth—she’ll return. Even if you give her space and don’t speak to her.”

Baby grimaced, subtly. That didn’t help.

It wasn’t that he disliked the idea of keeping your cooling wave around... It was the thought of you returning anyway. Coming back while still expecting something from him he visibly couldn’t give.

But Mystery, unfazed, didn’t pause.

He lifted his chin to glance at the ceiling. “Of course, humans are fickle. So if she does surprise us and doesn’t return—worst-case scenario—she may attempt to damage your name. And, by extension, SAJA’s name. On those human gathering zones—”

“Socials, senior,” Romance cut in, smiling as he gently corrected.

Mystery paused only to nod, then continued, barely missing a beat. “...‘Socials’,” he echoed, as if the word were a foreign incantation. “The humans under the company that manage our images and interactions on those... 'Socials', would easily turn the narrative. She’d be painted as overbearing. You, as the wounded victim.”

He turned his face back toward Baby, cool and direct.

“That way, Jinu still gets the attention he wanted from the relationship,” he said plainly. “And you—get your ‘time’ back.”

Mystery finished with the same calm he always carried. He offered no emotional comfort, no praise—only clean-cut logic and resolution, as if he were stating a weather report.

The lack of him commenting on you potentially revealing they were demons spoke volumes too. No one would believe you and even spin it into one of those wild theories that would just give SAJA more attention through the content the humans would spin out of it.

Romance gave an approving clap, fingers snapping in a polished, regal manner. “Brilliant, as always.”

Abby just groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Too many turns and curves. I think I got whiplash.”

Baby sighed heavily. His arms folded again as he rocked back on the heels of his feet, eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

“So much fucking unnecessary drama...” he muttered, his voice trailing off, drawn out by the pitter-patter of rain tapping steadily against the windows, ringing in his ears and echoing in his mind.

#kpop demon hunters #kpdh #saja boys #request #ficrequest #baby kpdh #baby saja #saja boys x reader #baby saja x reader

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distuff · 1 month ago

Note

Good evening, how are you? If you are accepting requests, could you write what the reaction would be like for a reader who ends up with "saja boys" after a considerable amount of time in the relationship (2 or 5 years)?

Thank you and have a great weekend.

Hello my dear readershi !!

I have to apologise, but I have to reject this prompt (シ_ _)シ

You see I do not have a standard reader I lean on when I get vague prompts about 'em. Instead I write the reader around it to make it feel like they would do smth like that plus as standard as possible so everyone could sort of relate to them. But this one is too vague where I can't tell you how this reader would react since there is nothin to react with x,D

I hope this won't deter you from reaching out to authors with your ideas though ! Don't forget it's not due to the prompt but cause the author cannot think of anything around what you've given them ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

If you would like to, I can add KPDH tags for other author to take up ur prompt ! I hope you'll have a splendid day readershi~ I would still like to thank you for your idea (´꒳`)♡

#ask

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distuff · 1 month ago

Note

Hi hi! May I request a saja boys x reader where they see them after one of their first performances and since they’re enamored, stroll up to them but reader flirts with them and how’d they react? Totally understand if you don’t want to write it!

Answer: There's a lot of they/ them where it can be taken as it's readers first performance - the boyz are enamored - and reader flirts OR it's SAJA's first performance - reader is enamored - and reader flirts w em. SINCE I don't know which one you meant, I decided to go w the one which best fits the ver of the SAJA in my head. I apologise if it's the wrong ver <(_ _)>

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Demon Boys' And Soda Pop

Featuring: Mystery Saja, Jinu Saja, Romance Saja, Abs Saja, Baby Saja Reader: neutral

Mystery SAJA

🐶 If someone had told him he’d one day be forced to dress in eye-burning bright colours—exposing parts of his body deemed “attractive”—just to attract a horde of desperate, lonely humans, wasting his demonic energy on cheap parlour tricks… Mystery would have stared silently at the bold demon through his fringe, then promptly set them alight with Gwi-ma’s fire.

🐶It wouldn’t kill them—just hurt enough to make them run and think twice about speaking to him again. Mystery had no intention of sitting through another one of Gwi-ma’s drawn-out lectures about murdering his people without “justifiable cause.”

🐶 He exhaled, a quiet sigh slipping past his lips. The faintest wrinkle formed between his brows—thankfully concealed beneath his fringe. If Jinu spotted it, he'd be pulled aside for another talk about why he should never look stressed. Then, without fail, he’d be dragged into a ‘mandatory’ spa day by Romance—which, of course, was just an excuse for Romance to pamper himself.

🐶 Why had he even agreed to this nonsense in the first place? Ah... Right. He remembered now, He promised me time to explore the human world…

🐶Mystery’s gaze slid sideways toward Jinu, who stood at the front of the platform, addressing the crowd of awe-struck humans still reeling from their first performance. The stage beneath them slowly began to descend, the elaborate illusion fading around them—carefully unravelled under Mystery’s control.

🐶 He narrowed his eyes, mentally willing Jinu to feel the full weight of his glare through the layers of hair that veiled them. I should have asked him to elaborate on how much time I’d actually have for that.

🐶 A small cluster of humans had begun edging towards them for Gwi-ma knows what. Mystery watched them, unamused. Fools, he thought, unimpressed. It was like watching sheep coming closer to wolves they mistook for a livestock guardian dog.

🐶 Mystery’s attention slid over to Romance and Baby, who were—depending on how one looked at it—either worsening the situation or accelerating the mission. They were actively overusing the heart illusion Mystery had reluctantly taught them at Jinu’s request.

🐶 Technically, it was working. The illusions were doing their job. The humans were enthralled. Unfortunately, they weren’t allowed to harvest any souls just yet. Too many humans clustered in one area. Panic would ripple like wildfire. The herd would scatter. It wasn’t that serious—they had five high-ranking demons on site, after all. But what made the situation needlessly irritating… were the huntresses.

🐶 Mystery could sense them easily, even when they tried to mask their presence by using other human souls as cover. Where a normal human’s wave was scorching-cool, almost milky in structure, the huntresses gave off something far more volatile. Sharp. Electric. Like brushing against live wires at full charge. Even getting close to their wave would feel like being struck by a thousand volts.

🐶 Mystery tilted his head, analysing the new generation of the trio. Emotionally constipated, he concluded. The long pink-haired one and the purple-haired one both had the facial expressions of someone who hadn't felt joy since birth. The black-haired one, meanwhile, just looked cripplingly self-conscious—desperate for approval.

🐶 Haaah... How fun~ The thought curled in his mind with a faintly sadistic twist. The corner of his lips quirked upwards before he caught himself, smoothing it quickly back into the well-practised, faint smile that couldn't quite reach the hidden corners of his eyes, no matter how much Romance or Abby tried teaching him how to smile.

🐶 He was just about to warn Baby, who was closest and currently far too preoccupied not to make eye contact with the drooling humans… When a scorching-cool wave brushed close enough to sting his senses.

🐶 He froze. His head turned immediately toward the source.

Mystery wasn’t surprised when one of the ‘braver’ humans peeled away from the crowd and approached him too. What did surprise him, however, was the taste of your wave. It hit him like syrup—honey-sweet and cloyingly thick. His teeth ached from the overwhelming richness of it, and he had to draw a deep breath just to stop himself from instinctively reaching out to join your field and sink his teeth into your soul. He was used to all manner of emotional flavours: the body-shuddering fear, the heavy despair of those realising their life would be taken, the bittersweet blend of fascination and dread in those who fell for his illusions. Sometimes, a teasing hint of lust when he drew out the kill in solo hunts. He knew all those notes well. But this… this was different. A choking sweetness that clung to his throat and made his mouth water. Obsession. That was the taste. It curled around his senses like perfume—intoxicating and maddening. Saliva pooled at the corners of his tongue, and he was forced to swallow it down. He barely registered the words coming out of your mouth—soft attempts at flirtation, laced with ill-placed intrigue. Empty bait to lure his attention. You must have seen a potential mate. He, on the other hand, saw a potential feast. Maybe… He tilted his head in that calculated, “cute” way he had to perfect for show, watching you falter mid-sentence. Your pupils dilated. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and kept speaking—more words Mystery didn’t bother to absorb. He was too busy weighing the odds. Should he be the first to sample this rare sweetness?

:::

Jinu SAJA

🐦‍⬛ Jinu had known Gwi-ma would amplify their demonic powers once they reached the surface—but he hadn’t expected them to work this well. He’d always been aware he was unconventionally attractive, even in his full demon form, but this? This was bordering on absurd.

🐦‍⬛ Jinu had pictured a slow burn—maybe a quiet start, where he’d have to claw tooth and nail for the attention of HUNT/X’s fanbase. A gradual rise, needed to be earned. But no.

🐦‍⬛ All it had taken were the forms of enigmatic, unreachable “human” males with sculptured features and a predator’s gait to throw the whole fandom into a mess. The women were already swooning; the men, practically taking notes.

🐦‍⬛ It made Jinu wonder just how flimsy human attachment really was. All you had to do, apparently, was carry yourself like the world bent for you—a bit of ambition, a cool air of indifference, maybe a smirk that hinted you knew something no one else did. That alone was enough to draw the eyes of women and make men glance down at their own posture with sudden insecurity.

So, yes—it was safe to say Jinu was internally bouncing like a newly turned demon being praised by their lord and doomer, Gwi-ma, when you—a ordinary human with an energy that screamed "bad news"—decided to approach him just as he finished his speech.

The platform had lowered. His escape route was ready. He was about to poof himself away from the crowd of humans they'd gathered with the guys—until you stepped forward, cutting right into his space.

Safe to say, he froze.

Eyes wide, shoulders stiff, Jinu barely managed to mask his alarm as you stopped far too close. You leaned forward with what he could only describe as a flirty smile, voice dipping into a tone that made his fingers twitch uncomfortably.

You were praising their performance in a suggestive tone as you inched closer to him.

Jinu leaned back, spine arching slightly, trying not to look like he was retreating. He caught a blur of movement in the corner of his eye and snapped his gaze toward Romance—thank the lord, he was nearby.

His eyes pleaded, darting between you and Romance in sheer panic.

Romance blinked once. Then, with zero shame or sympathy, he grinned and gave Jinu a double thumbs-up before casually turning his attention to another bold human—this one flushed red as they walked up to him.

Jinu threw his brother-in-rank a betrayed look, but of course it went completely unnoticed.

He turned back to you—who, thankfully, seemed far too enamoured to catch the one-sided non-verbal scream for help.

He scrambled to recover. A half-baked “thanks” left his lips, with awkward smile which seemed to sprung you even more as you began talking faster and with more vigor cutting him off from giving some excuse about needing to leave.

He straightened, ready to cut you off again—

—but paused.

His gaze dropped to your honmoon. It was quivering.

He ignored the emotion it was giving off—he wasn’t ready to unpack that—and instead focused on the colour.

It wasn’t what he knew it to be. The barrier was supposed to glow a bright, pure blue. Standard human energy. But yours…

It was shifting. Deeper. Darker.

Purple.

What does that mean? he thought sharply, eyes scanning the rest of the group as you kept chatting, blissfully unaware, now rambling on about some place that sold amazing “boba” or whatever that was.

And then he saw it—more purpling honmoons scattered throughout the crowd. Some faint, others more vivid.

The shape of the colour sat on the edge of recognition. He knew what it meant—or at least, some part of him did.

Jinu swallowed hard, deciding not to dwell on it now. Not here. Not out in the open like this.

If he was right about those three females, they were the huntresses. And now that he was more aware of the barrier, he could feel it—faint traces of their energy just barely seeping through the protective waves of the honmoon.

He’d bring it up with the others once they were safely back at the flat. That was the plan. With that in mind, he tuned out your voice entirely, eyes distant as he calmly reached out, placed a hand on your shoulder, and flashed a dazzling smile that immediately made you freeze.

"The SAJA is honoured to have such a devoted fan," he said smoothly, voice warm and formal. "We’re glad you enjoyed our song. Let’s hope to see you again at the event."

And with that, he turned on his heel, fluid and unbothered, heading off to collect the rest of the group. Time to make a cool, coordinated exit—one that involved ducking into a random alley and vanishing in a puff of purple smoke, since someone (read: himself) had told their new manager they wouldn’t need a private van.

A mistake. One he would never admit to out loud.

Today also marked the first time Jinu couldn’t just sever a human’s head when they got on his nerves. Not great. And, to make matters worse, the first time he’d ever been scolded by one.

Yeah. This mission was already shaping up to be far more headache-inducing than he’d accounted for.

:::

Romance SAJA

🌹 Flirting? Please~ Romance didn’t flirt. He seduced. He knew how to read the humans, knew exactly how to use their desperation to belong, to be noticed, to feel wanted for his own benefits. Every time he was sent to the surface, it was the same predictable pattern. The only difference now was that he was allowed to enjoy it.

🌹 He stood with a relaxed posture, scanning the crowd. Each time he met a gaze, he held it for a second longer than necessary. His smiled and let his gaze linger just long enough to make them hope for more. He locked eyes, nodded slightly, and watched as they lit up, mistaking a moment of attention for something personal.

🌹He guessed he could afford to spare some attention to these desperate sheep more than he usually does. That was until his settled on you.

Romance knew from experience how little it took. A single glance—intentional or not—and most humans took it as an invitation to approach. The others came driven by that familiar thought rattling around their heads: What if? Only a few had the confidence to follow through. The rest were just caught up in their own fantasies.

He didn’t really care which one you were.

What caught his attention was your honmoon line. It pulsed with a shade of purple he had never seen before. It felt, enticing.

He returned your shy smile with a confident one, pretending you had his full attention as you began speaking. Something about the performance, maybe his looks, possibly the heart-shaped illusion—he didn’t bother to follow the details.

His focus remained on your wave that pulsed with entirely new emotion. It almost had a flavour to it—faintly sweet, like a candy he remembered from when he’d still been human. The phantom taste lingered, making his mouth water.

He had never felt a reaction like this before. His canines ached slightly as he resisted the urge to bite his bottom lip.

He didn’t realise he’d leaned in until his fingers brushed your skin. You flinched slightly, eyes wide, face flushed. The contact made your wave tremble again. The purple deepened, becoming less rigid, more vibrant. Unlike past encounters, this one wasn’t scorching cool. It felt close—almost touchable. How interesting~

His smile widened. He stood taller, easily casting you in shadow, watching you stare up at him with an emotion he recognised instantly.

Expectation.

He let out a short laugh, and you smiled, looking away shyly, no doubt assuming something you’d said had caused his reaction.

Naive sheep brain. Romance let his hand settle on your cheek, his mouth opening, ready to extend the invitation to come with them. This time, he didn’t even need to use his abilities. You were already halfway drawn in—

Then an arm hooked tightly around his shoulders.

The link between you snapped instantly as Romance stiffened and turned, eyes meeting Jinu’s. The older demon wore a strained smile.

Romance stared at him, unimpressed.

"My, what a dazzling fan we have here," Jinu said, pulling Romance closer to his side—and further away from you.

Romance gave him a flat look. You looked just as surprised, eyes wide, honmoon flickering with embarrassment now. Romance didn’t care about that. He cared that Jinu had just cut him off from what would’ve been his first proper meal of the day.

Jinu ignored him entirely, leaning toward you.

"It’s truly saddening to jump between you two," he said, voice full of false regret, "but unfortunately, the SAJA Boys have to leave now."

He began backing away, still gripping Romance’s shoulder hard enough to stop him from shaking free and forcing him to follow suit.

"Thank you for your support! Let's talk at the event !"

And just like that, Romance was dragged along, forced to throw you a quick wink and smirk before following the others. Baby appeared beside him seconds after, sliding into step and looking mildly disturbed.

Romance’s attention shifted immediately. The mischief in his expression returned as he leaned closer to the younger demon. Time to figure out what had put that look on Baby’s face seeing - or rather feeling - the sheep around them began having similar purple waves like you did.

Soon, it wouldn’t be difficult to find someone to taste. What was that saying? If everyone’s special, then no one is?

Looked like that applied to you now.

:::

Abby SAJA

💪 Abby never understood—or rather, never cared to understand—what someone’s fixation on another could drive them to do.

💪 He knew how he looked. Knew his body made it easier than he could count to hunt down a worthy soul, whether to devour or send off to Gwi-ma. What that did to humans—or even some demons—wasn’t his concern.

💪 Why should he care? Kahahaha! Abby enjoyed the attention when he had time for it. What it made others do wasn’t his problem.

That’s why, when you—a faceless human in a sea of fans—stepped forward with hesitant steps but determined eyes that couldn’t help roaming across the deep V of Abby’s button-up shirt before quickly darting away, it didn’t faze him one bit.

If anything, Abby’s grin only widened as you came to a stop in front of him. Uncertain, and nervous. But clearly set on doing something that involved him.

The moment your lips parted to speak, Abby casually crossed his arms, muscles bulging as he straightened his posture. Predictably, your words tumbled out as a string of muttered, incoherent syllables.

Whatever speech you’d prepared disintegrated the second your gaze dropped to the flexed lines of his chest. Your cheeks flushed, your mouth opened again—then promptly closed as you looked away, mortified.

Abby guessed you were mentally scolding yourself, if the furrow in your brows meant anything. But he didn’t dwell on that. Not when you looked back up at him, a flicker of renewed courage behind your eyes.

Amused, Abby tilted his head, smirked—and slowly puff up his chest to undid another button. More of his sun-kissed skin came into view, the "sweat" he’d learned how to project out catching the light in all the right places.

You froze. Mouth shut. Eyes wide. Silenced all over again.

Abby would have to thank Romance later for that trick with the sweat. It seemed to make everything pop just right.

Needless to say, he spent the next few moments subtly flexing, thoroughly enjoying the way your expression kept getting better and better. You didn’t even hesitate when he leaned down and asked, “Wanna touch?”—your hand was already reaching before he’d finished the sentence.

And of course, two of the guys had to stepped in. Seems like this time it had to be Baby and Jinu who had to drag him away before things could dragged out longer than necessary.

Jinu flashed you a polite, slightly awkward smile, muttering something about how he looked forward to seeing you again at the event. Meanwhile, Baby—his large doe eyes glancing you over with clear disinterest—grabbed Abby by the arm and yanked him along. Abby let himself be dragged, grinning all the while as he waved at you.

You waved back, still seemingly in a trance, before snapping out of it with a startled blink. The moment passed. The chance to speak your mind gone just like that.

You let out a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping as you kicked a stray pebble at your feet. There was only one thing left to do.

You were going to have to spend money to attend that event just to see the Saja Boys again.

Especially Abby— Your face flushed hot at the memory of your fingers brushing over his sturdy muscles.

:::

Baby SAJA

🍼 Baby lacked the proper words to describe what he felt once the performance ended.

🍼 The pedestal was lowered by Mystery, who expertly maintained the intricate illusions cast across the area—illusions so convincing they mimicked what humans in this era called “technology.” A strange, blinding magic that made Baby’s sharpened eyesight burn beneath the glare of artificial light. He wasn’t alone in that.

🍼 Coming out into the capital at night had been a mistake. They’d learned that quickly enough. But the discomfort wasn’t what made Baby freeze. No—this feeling stirring in his chest had nothing to do with aching eyes as it was daylight or exhausted limbs as he could barely feel anything.

🍼 It was something else entirely. Something his body struggled to put a name on. It tasted like joy, yet carried the sharp tang of anticipation. Beneath that, a bitter trace of fear. The entire wave was drenched in something sweet—syrupy, almost cloying—cut through by a burning sensation, like the kick of rum. It was... intoxicating.

🍼 He’d tasted plenty from the crowd, even mid-performance: admiration, envy, lust, and in some cases curiosity with confusion in three that was topped with three other emotions. All these feelings were familiar.

🍼 But this? This was new. He couldn’t pin it down—not with his instincts, not even when compared to the countless feelings from his older hunts.

🍼 Still rooted in place, Baby slowly turned his head. And then he saw you. A human. You stood just on the edge of the herd, clutching your hands close to your chest. Your eyes were set with determination, though fear clung just beneath the surface. Hesitant, yet anticipating something good. And then you took a step forward and began walking straight towards him.

Oh shit. Baby’s eyes widened as he watched you draw closer. That unfamiliar, clogging-yet-intoxicating sensation flooded his body more—thick and shimmering off your honmoon wave. And now that he looked more carefully... was it turning purple?

He stared at the stream that shyly peeled off the barrier, wavering mid-air as if unsure whether to stray along some unseen path. It hovered for a moment—then slinked back into the safety of the boundary it had come from, as though retreating into habit.

Baby's confusion showed plainly, his brows knitting as he studied it. But the moment the feeling became more noticeable, his expression blanked. The usual scorching-cold sensation—the one he was used to feeling from humans waves before he soothed them—wasn’t there.

Instead, it was cool. Soothing. A gentle, welcoming calm that whispered at him to touch, to linger.

His mouth watered. His body trembled with the urge to lean in, to taste this new, divine flavour. Something he’d never encountered and was curious to sample.

And then—he locked eyes with you.

Instantly, that pleasurable heat vanished. Replaced by the sudden, jarring urge to step back.

So he did.

You stopped. Visibly startled.

Good, Baby thought, even as his own face twitched with something that looked close to panic. He might’ve felt nothing emotionally, but his body—his instincts—knew not to get too close.

Why? His gaze scanned you, wide and uncertain. You stood tall now, less hesitant, more puzzled. His body tightened with something sour.

And then you smiled. Warm and inviting.

Something that should’ve meant comfort—but instead made Baby flinch. He looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with something so... gentle. Something he had the impulse to twist into a crooked grin or stretched unnaturally altogether to reveal the true face under the façade.

What the hell is that? the thought stabbed through his mind. His eyes darted back to you—only to find you stepping toward him again, still smiling.

That same smile. It made his skin crawl.

You looked unsure, but you didn’t stop. “Ah, I apologise for speaking like this, I just wanted to—”

But you didn’t get to finish. Baby turned sharply on his heel and walked away. Fast.

He didn’t stop until he reached the others, slipping soundlessly into place beside Mystery—letting the older demon’s steady presence and cloaking aura pull him out of your reach. Your strange honmoon wave vanished under Mystery’s natural demonic aura.

And only then did Baby’s shoulders sag, his entire body coiling tight with disgust.

He didn’t understand what that feeling had been. But he hated it. He hated how it made him feel.

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